Two nights prior to the festival, Blair came home from her part-time job, looking utterly drained. Hardly inside her apartment, Chuchu, her ever-mischievous cat, pounced on her as she opened the door. He darted between her legs and bolted into the hallway.

“Little monster!” she screamed, running after dumping her bag onto the couch and rushing after the cat.

She searched the entire building apartment along the corridors to downstairs. However, there was no sign of her Chuchu. She huffed, frustrated, and returned to her floor. Then, the attic popped her mind.

Gripping the frame, she peered inside the attic with a butterfly on her stomach at the eerie atmosphere inside. But she had no choice but to step inside. Her footsteps muffled by layers of dust.

The attic was cluttered with storage boxes, broken instruments, and, oddly enough, an assortment of psychological books that stood out starkly in the neglected space. Her brows furrowed as she spotted a textbook displaying the University of Uriel’s logo on the floor, likely fallen from one of the boxes.

Her chest tightened as the realization struck her—they belonged to someone who had attended the same university as she had. And that person had lived in this very building.

Blair’s heart raced insanely. She had always felt as though someone was watching her—catching glimpses of movement in her peripheral vision and experiencing the inexplicable sensation of being followed. Now, with this discovery, her unease deepened into something far more spontaneous.

Chuchu’s meow shattered the silence, prompting her to turn and see him perched atop a stack of boxes. “Monster, get down from there!” she whispered sharply, her voice trembling under the strain of her anxiety.

As the cat leapt sloppily down, a small box toppled from the stack, hitting the floor with a dull thud. She crouched to pick it up, her hands trembling. It was a jewelry box, its leather exterior scuffed but intact. She flipped it open—and froze.

Inside was a photo of her, taken at the university. Her stomach churned with dread as her gaze darted back to the belongings scattered around the attic. Examining the wallet-sized photo, she deduced it was from her freshman year.

A creak from the attic door made her turn her head. The door, which she had left wide open, was now slightly ajar, as if someone had been watching her and had slipped away.

Clutching the jewelry box, Blair’s breath came in shallow gasps. Her paranoia had escalated beyond mere suspicion. Her chest tightened as if an invisible weight were pressing down on her. A sharp, stabbing ache, her heart pounding, accompanied each shallow breath she managed as though it wanted to break free from her chest.

Her knees buckled, and she sank onto the dusty attic floor, struggling to steady herself. “God, please… give me your strength,” she whispered, clutching her chest. The walls seemed to close in around her, and her vision narrowed as panic clawed its way up her throat.

However, she didn’t allow herself another moment to dwell on her thoughts. She had a sense that whoever it was; they weren’t far away. She quickly shoved the jewelry box into her bag and fled the attic. Her footsteps echoed through the quiet hallway as she bolted down the stairs, grabbed her coat, and stepped out into the cool night air.

Blair’s chest heaved as she stumbled out of the apartment building, her head darting in every direction. She scanned the streets, her wild eyes locking onto every passerby, scrutinizing their movements and faces. Anyone could be one of them.

Her breath fogged in the night air as she hurried down the street, her mind racing. Every person she encountered—whether walking too slowly, glancing over their shoulder, or wearing a hood—seemed like a potential threat. The paranoia gnawed at her, twisting her thoughts into knots.

With no one to confront and no answers in sight, she wandered aimlessly until her feet led her to the rear of an abandoned warehouse. The faint glow of a distant streetlamp cast long, eerie shadows, and the stillness of the area only intensified her growing frustration.

“Come out now!” she screamed into the darkness, her voice cracking. “Don’t hide like a coward!”

Her shout echoed off the barren walls, filling the silence with a haunting repetition. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she waited for some kind of response—a sound, a movement, anything.

Her vision blurred with tears as she clawed at the ground, gasping, “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

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Her memories overwhelmed her like an avalanche—images of the past she had fought so hard to bury surged forth. The oppressive darkness of that room, the echoes of her captors’ voices, and the suffocating fear all came rushing back. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and the walls of the alley seemed to close in around her.

“Whoever you are!” she screamed hoarsely into the empty night. “Whatever you want… just do it! I’m done hiding! I’m done running!” Her voice cracked, raw and filled with desperation.

Her hands balled into fists, slamming against the unyielding ground as sobs tore through her. “Take me!” she cried. “I’m alone! No one would even notice if I disappeared. Nobody would come looking for me!”

For what felt like hours, Blair lay crumpled on the cold ground, the invisible chains of fear and trauma tightening around her neck. Her breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as her vision blurred, and the world around her faded into smudges of light and shadow.

A voice—familiar yet distant—called her name, cutting through the suffocating haze. She blinked, attempting to focus, but the figure above her was little more than a silhouette against the dim glow of the streetlight.

She flinched as a large, warm hand gently cupped her face. The touch was firm yet cautious, as if the figure feared she might break. Kneeling beside her, the figure lifted her head and carefully rested it on a sturdy lap.

“Blair,” a hoarse voice called her name. A gentle slap landed against her cheek, enough to rouse her but not cause any pain. “Wake up, airhead!”

“I just want it to be over,” she whispered, her voice breaking. For the first time, she stopped resisting the fear and allowed it to wash over her. Whether it consumed her or set her free, she no longer cared. “All I want now is peace, Spencer.”

He froze at the sound of his name on her trembling lips. It wasn’t just the words she spoke, but the way she uttered his name—fragile and raw, as though she were surrendering everything to him.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips, though his voice conveyed an unusual mix of teasing and unsettling seriousness. “Get real, airhead. I’m going to be the greatest doctor at our university, and trust me, you won’t die just because you’re too scared to remember something.” He lightly tapped her temple, as if reprimanding her irrational thoughts. “Your sheer stubbornness could probably outlive a nuclear fallout, let alone any trauma.”

Her lips parted as she processed his words, her voice trembling yet infused with urgency. “What do you mean by ‘too afraid to remember’? What do you know, Spencer?”

His smirk faltered, his expression transforming into something colder and sharper, as if a mask had fallen away. His eyes darkened, the lighthearted humor replaced by an intensity that sent a chill down Blair’s spine. The teasing edge to his demeanor vanished, replaced by an ominous calm that felt far more menacing.

“You said you’re done hiding, right?” His voice was low and deliberate, each word slicing through the air like a blade. “Good. Because I’m done pretending.” He leaned in closer, his shadow looming over her. “So here’s the deal: either you force yourself to remember everything—all of it—or I’ll make you recall what happened the night you were kidnapped.”

For a moment, it felt as though the world had come to a standstill, except for the pounding of her heart.

She forced herself to get up and moved away from him. “Who… who are you, Spencer? What is your motive? Why are you even here?”

“You wouldn’t understand, even if I told you.” His tone lacked its usual sarcasm; it was cool, distant, and unyielding. “But if you must know, I’m searching for something.”

Her breath hitched, and her blood ran cold. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “I have nothing left—don’t you understand? I don’t even know if I have any ambition left, except to live in peace.”

Her fingers fumbled in her pocket, pulling out a crumpled pay slip from her part-time job. She extended it toward him, her hand trembling. “This… this is all I have to show for my life right now,” she said bitterly. “Look at this! It’s barely enough to buy decent food, let alone fix my broken life. So, tell me—what could I possibly have that you or anyone else would want so desperately?”

Her chest heaved as she awaited his response, her vulnerability laid bare. The tension in the air thickened; her words were a challenge, a plea, and a resignation all at once.

His lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile, and his eyes were dark with an unspoken weight. “Let’s just say... it’s something worth the cost of billions of lives.”

“F*** my life! F*** you all! What about the billions of lives? Of frogs?” She paced furiously, her voice rising with every word. “Why is it that every time I think my life has hit rock bottom, someone hands me a shovel and says, ‘Here, dig a little deeper!”

Her steps faltered as her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes. “All I want now is to graduate,” she whispered, the intensity of her emotions breaking through. “Find a job. Eat a complete meal without worrying if I’ll have enough for the next one.”

She wiped her face with trembling hands, but the tears continued to flow. “You don’t understand,” she choked out, “you have no idea how much I’ve struggled to adjust to my new life. I wake up every day just to make it to the next paycheck, the next lecture, the next meal.”

Blair turned to Spencer, her tear-streaked face reflecting pain and disbelief. “If—if—there’s something I’ve forgotten, something buried in my memories that all of you are so desperate for…” She glared at him, her eyes blazing with fury and determination. “Then I’ll tell you. I’ll tell everyone. Let them come for me. Let them chase me down in broad daylight. I am done with all this sneaking around and hiding!”

Spencer remained silent. His expression was inscrutable, yet within its neutrality lay a subtle menace. His jaw was clenched, and the contours of his face were sharp and unyielding, as if chiseled from stone.

Her breath caught in her throat. For the first time, she realized just how deeply he had deceived her. The easygoing smirks, the casual remarks, and the moments he made her laugh had all seemed genuine. But now, under the dim light, that mask had slipped, revealing a side of him she no longer recognized.

This was a man who had meticulously calculated every word, every move, and every interaction with her—a man capable of concealing a blade behind a charming smile.