The next morning, Maya woke before the sun. Her father's journal lay beside her, its pages still open where she'd left them. Every sentence felt like a piece of her heart returning.
She stepped outside, barefoot, into the dew-laced grass behind the cottage. The fog curled around her like a silent witness. She closed her eyes and breathed in the earth, the trees, the sky—herself.
Footsteps behind her didn't startle her. Daniel.
"You didn't sleep," he said.
"I couldn't," she replied, "but I'm not tired. I feel… awake. Like I've been living half-asleep for years."
He handed her a cup of tea. "You remembered more, didn't you?"
Maya nodded. "There was a room with mirrors. And people—watching. They called it a study. I was the subject."
Daniel's expression darkened. "You were part of something bigger than you knew. Project Harrowgate wasn't just about gifted minds—it was about control."
Her hands trembled, but she didn't drop the tea.
"You said they'll come if I remember too much," Maya said. "What if they already know?"
Daniel looked past her into the trees. "They're watching. But so am I."
Suddenly, a sharp movement caught Maya's eye—a shadow slipping between the trees. Not imagined.
Daniel noticed too. He moved in front of her instinctively.
"It's time we stop hiding," she said.
He nodded. "Then let's fight smart. Together."