Julian didn't ask where they were going.
Not at first.
He walked beside the stranger through the dark streets, the key still closed inside his fist.
The city had changed around them.
Or perhaps he had.
Every sound seemed sharper now.
A distant engine.
Footsteps behind them.
The hum of electricity from the buildings overhead.
He kept looking at reflections in windows.
Cars.
Glass doors.
Anything that could show him who was following.
Nothing.
That should have made him feel safer.
It didn't.
"You're quiet," the stranger said.
"I'm thinking."
"About the messages?"
"About the woman."
The stranger's expression tightened.
"You shouldn't."
"That usually means I should."
They turned into a narrow street.
The stranger stopped beside a parked vehicle.
"We have ten minutes."
"Before what?"
"Before someone notices we changed direction."
Julian looked at him.
"You've been expecting this."
"I've been expecting someone to notice."
"And you brought me anyway."
"I didn't know they were watching that closely."
Julian almost smiled.
"You're starting to sound like Silas."
The stranger's face hardened.
"Don't compare me to him."
"Why?"
"Because I'm not him."
"Neither am I."
The stranger looked at him.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then he unlocked the car.
Julian got in.
The photograph was still in his pocket.
He pulled it out again.
The woman.
Three years ago.
Standing beside him.
Looking directly at the camera.
There was something about her face.
Not familiarity.
Something stranger.
Trust.
Julian didn't know why he thought that.
But he did.
He turned the photograph over.
She knows where it is.
He traced the words with his thumb.
"Where did you get this?"
"From Locke."
"When?"
"Before you disappeared."
"How long before?"
"Two weeks."
Julian looked up.
"Two weeks before I erased Locke?"
"Yes."
"Then why didn't you stop me?"
The stranger's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
"You didn't tell me you were going to do it."
"You knew something was wrong."
"I knew you were planning something."
"What?"
"You wouldn't tell me."
Julian stared at him.
"That sounds familiar."
The stranger started the engine.
"Locke trusted almost nobody."
"But he trusted you."
"No."
The answer came too quickly.
Julian noticed.
"He trusted me enough to give me the key."
"That's not trust."
"Then what is it?"
"Insurance."
Julian looked out the window.
Insurance.
That sounded like something he would do.
The car moved.
They drove for several minutes before the stranger spoke again.
"There's a place we can stay until morning."
"Whose place?"
"Mine."
Julian looked at him.
"No."
The stranger frowned.
"You need somewhere safe."
"I don't need another person deciding where I sleep."
The stranger went quiet.
Julian watched the road.
"I've had enough of that."
He didn't say Silas's name.
He didn't need to.
The stranger understood.
"Then where do you want to go?"
Julian looked at the photograph.
"I want to find her."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if she knows where the case is, she won't be waiting for you."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
"You know her."
"I know what she was involved in."
"That's not the same thing."
"It is tonight."
Julian looked at him.
"What happened three years ago?"
The stranger didn't answer.
"Everyone keeps telling me pieces," Julian said. "Locke was feared. Locke disappeared. I erased Locke. Silas knew him. You knew him. A knows what happened."
His voice became quieter.
"But nobody tells me what actually happened."
The stranger's jaw tightened.
"Because you were the one who decided nobody should."
Julian froze.
"What?"
"You made the decision."
"What decision?"
"To forget."
Silence filled the car.
Julian looked down at his hands.
A strange pressure formed behind his eyes.
Then—
A door.
A dark room.
The black case.
Silas standing across from him.
The woman from the photograph.
Her voice.
You can't erase all of it.
Julian's breath caught.
The memory vanished.
He gripped the seat.
The stranger noticed.
"What did you see?"
Julian didn't answer.
"What did you remember?"
"Her voice."
The stranger's eyes flicked toward him.
"What did she say?"
Julian swallowed.
"You can't erase all of it."
The stranger went pale.
Julian saw it.
And suddenly he knew.
"You've heard that before."
The stranger said nothing.
"You've heard her say it."
"Julian—"
"Who is she?"
The stranger pulled the car to the side of the road.
He turned off the engine.
For several seconds, he simply stared through the windshield.
Then he said quietly,
"Her name was Mara."
Julian waited.
"She worked with Locke."
"Doing what?"
"Information."
"An agent?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"She found things."
Julian frowned.
"What things?"
"Things people buried."
The words sent a chill through him.
The stranger continued.
"Names. Transactions. Meetings. Evidence. Secrets."
"And the case?"
His silence answered before he did.
"Mara found something inside it."
Julian's pulse increased.
"What?"
"We never found out."
"Because?"
"Because the night she opened it, she disappeared."
Julian stared at him.
"And Locke?"
"He went looking for her."
"Did he find her?"
The stranger looked at him.
"That's what nobody knows."
Julian looked down at the photograph.
The woman didn't look frightened.
She looked certain.
As if she had known exactly what would happen.
His fingers tightened around the photograph.
"She's alive."
The stranger stared.
"What?"
"She's alive."
"You don't know that."
Julian looked at the photograph again.
"I don't remember her."
"Then how can you know?"
Julian lifted his eyes.
"I don't."
A pause.
"But Locke does."
The stranger's expression changed.
Before he could respond, the car's headlights suddenly illuminated the road ahead.
A figure stood in the middle of the street.
The stranger reached for his weapon.
Julian's body reacted instantly.
His hand caught the stranger's wrist.
"Wait."
The stranger looked at him.
The figure stepped closer.
A woman.
Dark coat.
Hair pulled back.
She stopped beneath the streetlight.
Julian stared through the windshield.
The photograph trembled between his fingers.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same woman.
Mara.
The stranger whispered her name.
She raised one hand.
Not a weapon.
A phone.
Julian's phone vibrated.
He pulled it from his pocket.
One new message.
From A.
Don't let her speak first.
Julian slowly looked back through the windshield.
Mara was already watching him.
Then she smiled.
Not warmly.
Not cruelly.
Like someone who had finally found what she had been searching for.
She lifted the phone to her ear.
And Julian heard his own phone ring.
He answered.
Mara's voice came through.
Quiet.
Familiar.
And terrified.
"Julian."
His entire body went still.
She swallowed.
Then whispered,
"You're not supposed to be alive."