The storm didn't stop. It followed them through the night—an echo of everything that had broken. By morning, the clouds still hung low over the city, bruised and restless.
Grace hadn't slept. The hotel room smelled like rain and fear. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw flashes of the fire—orange light on wallpaper, her mother's scream, Mia's silhouette in the smoke.
And Mark's voice: "He said if we control the narrative…"
Now she knew what that meant.
Now she knew who had been pulling the strings.
Mia sat at the small desk by the window, phone in hand, scrolling through old numbers. Her eyes were hollow, makeup smudged. "Daniel's still in the city," she said quietly. "I tracked the clinic's archive license. It was renewed last month under his name."
Grace sipped cold coffee. "Where?"
"West district. Near the river. An office building disguised as a mental health startup." Mia looked up. "You sure you want to do this?"
Grace's voice was low but steady. "I don't want to. I need to."
Mia's laugh was small, bitter. "You sound like me ten years ago."
Grace met her eyes. "Maybe for once, we're on the same side."
---
By noon, they were standing outside a glass-fronted building with a sign that read Neurovita Wellness Group. The rain had stopped, but the air was thick with humidity and silence.
Grace pulled her hood up. "He won't expect both of us."
Mia smirked faintly. "Good. I like surprises."
Inside, the place was pristine—white walls, soft music, the faint scent of lavender. The receptionist smiled the way people do when they've been trained to hide things. "Do you have an appointment?"
Grace's smile didn't reach her eyes. "You can tell Dr. Daniel Pierce that Grace Holloway would like a word."
The woman froze.
Then she pressed the intercom, murmured something, and a minute later, the door buzzed open.
---
Daniel was waiting in his office—gray suit, clean-shaven, eyes cold and sharp as glass. "Grace," he said with mock warmth. "You look… lucid. That's good."
Grace stepped closer. "You used me."
He tilted his head. "I helped you. Your therapy saved your life."
"You rewired it," she said. "You made me believe lies."
Mia crossed her arms. "She remembers now."
Daniel's gaze slid to her. "Ah, the twin. Still chasing the wrong kind of redemption, I see."
"Cut the act," Grace snapped. "You and Mark turned my trauma into a science experiment."
He chuckled. "Experiment is such an ugly word. You wanted to forget, Grace. You begged to forget."
"I wanted peace," she whispered. "You gave me confusion."
He leaned forward, fingers steepled. "And yet you came back. Why?"
"To end this," Grace said. "To take back what you stole."
Mia pulled out her phone and placed it on the desk—recording. "Everything you say from now on is evidence."
Daniel didn't even flinch. "Do you think the world will believe two unstable sisters over me? I built your recovery from the ground up, Grace. Every record, every scan, every file—mine."
Grace reached into her coat and slid a small flash drive across the desk. "Not anymore. I have copies of your sessions. Every manipulation. Every word you erased."
For the first time, Daniel's mask faltered. "That's impossible."
"Ethan found them," she said. "The backup files from Hollow Street. You really should've wiped the drives before you vanished."
Mia's smile was razor-thin. "You're done, doctor."
Daniel's eyes darkened. "You think this makes you free? You've built your whole life on the lies I created. Without me, you're nothing but a woman who burned down her own past."
Grace felt the tremor in her hands but didn't back down. "Then I'll build something new out of the ashes."
He stood slowly, stepping around the desk. "Careful, Grace. You don't want to lose control again."
Mia shifted closer. "Touch her, and I'll make sure you lose everything."
The tension in the room tightened until even the air felt sharp. Grace met his gaze, steady now. "We're done here."
As they turned to leave, Daniel's voice followed them, smooth and venomous. "You think this ends with me? You're wrong. The system still owns you. And you'll come crawling back when you realize the truth is heavier than the lie."
Grace didn't turn around. She just walked out—her pulse pounding, her lungs burning, the echo of his words chasing her down the hallway.
Outside, the wind had picked up again, swirling leaves across the pavement. Mia looked at her. "You really think it's over?"
Grace watched the clouds drift apart. "No," she said softly. "But it's finally beginning."