I started keeping a journal. As best I could. Scratching on scraps of paper when he wasn't watching.
But the entries didn't match. There were pages written in a different hand. My own, but... not mine. Words like "he needs us" and "loyalty through chaos."
I started to investigate. Every time I blacked out, I noted it. Tracked it. And the murders? They lined up.
Still, I couldn't connect the dots.
Not yet.