Chapter 6: The Memory I Didn’t Have
Nobody looked at me the way they had before.
Not with sympathy.
Not with anger.
With confusion.
Because the video showed something impossible.
Me.
Standing outside the locked room.
Talking to Claire.
But I had no memory of it.
The recording played.
My own voice came through the speakers.
“Claire, you need to understand.””
My reflection on the screen looked different.
Cold.
Empty.
I watched myself place a hand on the door.
“I can’t protect you if you keep fighting.””
Claire’s voice shook.
“Daniel, please.””
The video stopped.
The entire ballroom stared at me.
Lily looked up.
“Daddy?””
I couldn’t breathe.
“That’s not real.””
Nobody answered.
I turned to Richard.
“You made this.””
He smiled.
“Did I?””
“You edited it.””
“Did I?””
I looked at Claire.
She was crying.
Not because she believed the video.
Because she remembered something.
“Claire.””
She looked away.
“Tell me.””
Her silence terrified me.
“Tell me I’m not the person in that video.””
She closed her eyes.
“Daniel…”
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“Tell me.””
She looked at me.
“I don’t know.””
The words destroyed me.
“What does that mean?””
Claire walked closer.
“After they trapped me, there were days you came here.””
I stared at her.
“No.””
“Yes.””
“I would have remembered.””
“You weren’t yourself.””
“What are you saying?””
She looked toward my father.
“He drugged you.””
The room went silent.
Richard’s expression remained calm.
“He was always my most useful weapon.””
I felt sick.
“You used me.””
“I guided you.””
I shook my head.
“I loved you.””
My father looked almost disappointed.
“That was your weakness.””
I stepped toward him.
“You made me believe she abandoned us.””
“Yes.””
“You made me hate my own wife.””
“Yes.””
“You made my daughter grow up without her mother.””
His face finally changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
A crack.
Because even he knew he had gone too far.
Claire grabbed my arm.
“Daniel, listen.””
I looked at her.
“The video is real.””
The words hurt.
“But incomplete.””
She pointed at the screen.
“Watch the end.””
The video restarted.
This time, I noticed something.
A clock.
A timestamp.
The recording began at 2:13 a.m.
But it skipped.
There was a cut.
A small jump.
Then my voice changed.
My posture changed.
The person on the screen wasn’t angry anymore.
He looked terrified.
“Claire, I’m sorry.””
The ballroom became silent.
My own voice continued.
“I don’t remember everything.””
Claire in the video started crying.
“Daniel, you have to get help.””
“I will.””
“You have to tell someone.””
“I will.””
Then the video ended.
I stared at the screen.
A memory surfaced.
A hospital room.
A needle.
My father standing beside me.
A conversation I had forgotten.
“You’re stressed, son.””
“You need rest.””
“You trust me, don’t you?””
I grabbed my head.
The pain came suddenly.
Images flashed.
My father.
Medication.
Missing hours.
Missing days.
Missing memories.
Richard stepped closer.
“You were weak.””
I looked at him.
“No.””
He smiled.
“You always needed people to tell you what was real.””
I looked around.
At Claire.
At Lily.
At Vanessa.
At the family I almost lost.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message appeared.
Unknown number.
One sentence.
*You are not remembering the night Claire disappeared.*
Another message arrived.
*Because you were there when it happened.*
I looked at the screen.
My hands trembled.
Then a final message appeared.
A photograph.
A photograph taken seven years ago.
It showed me standing beside Claire’s locked door.
Holding the key.
And behind me…
May you like
Was someone else.
Someone who was supposed to be dead.
