The car smelled like metal and disinfectant.
Cold.
Sterile.
Final.
My wrists weren't tied, but two men sat on either side of me, their shoulders rigid, eyes forward. No one spoke. The engine hummed steadily as we drove farther away from the lighthouse—away from Riyan's voice, from Arjun's silhouette swallowed by darkness.
I kept my breathing slow.
Don't panic.
Remember everything.
The gates opened without a sound.
High walls.
Cameras.
Floodlights that never blinked.
The car rolled into a compound that didn't exist on any map.
They led me inside.
White corridors.
Polished floors.
No windows.
A place designed so no one could tell whether it was day or night.
A door opened.
I stepped into a room that felt more like a boardroom than a cell—glass walls, a long table, a single chair facing it.
"Sit," one of the men said.
I sat.
The door closed behind me with a soft, final click.
For a moment, I was alone.
Then another door slid open.
She walked in like she owned the air.
Riyan's mother.
Perfectly dressed.
Perfectly calm.
She took the seat across from me, folding her hands like we were about to discuss business over tea.
"I told you," she said gently, "that this house would swallow you."
My pulse thudded, but I met her gaze.
"You followed us," I said. "You always do."
She smiled. "Of course. You're important now."
Important.
The word made my stomach twist.
"You shouldn't have gone to the lighthouse," she continued. "You shouldn't have listened to a boy who never understood how power works."
"Arjun understood," I said quietly. "That's why you were afraid of him."
Her smile thinned.
"He was a liability," she replied, unbothered. "And liabilities get contained."
"Contained," I repeated. "Is that what you call erasing someone?"
She leaned back. "We didn't erase him. We relocated him. Protected him—from himself."
"From the truth," I said. "From you."
Her eyes hardened—just for a second.
"You think Riyan will save you," she said softly. "He won't. He can't. Everything he touches burns when he's emotional."
"You drugged him," I shot back. "You used his hand to sign your crime."
She didn't deny it.
Instead, she sighed. "He would have signed eventually. He always does what's best for the family."
Silence stretched between us.
Then she leaned forward, voice dropping.
"You were chosen because you're believable," she said. "Ordinary. Soft. Easy to blame. When things went wrong, everyone needed a face for the disaster."
"Mine," I said.
"Yes," she agreed. "And you played the part beautifully."
Anger flared hot and sharp—but beneath it, something colder formed.
"You didn't bring me here to kill me," I said slowly. "If you wanted me dead, it would've happened already."
Her gaze sharpened.
"You're learning."
"You brought me here to break Riyan," I continued. "To make him think saving me costs him his brother."
She smiled again—this time, approving.
"Exactly."
The door behind me opened.
Footsteps approached.
A man entered—older, clinical, carrying a tablet.
"Procedure is ready," he said neutrally.
Procedure.
My heart kicked hard, but I kept my voice steady.
"What procedure?"
She stood, smoothing her sleeves. "Nothing dramatic. Just… correction."
The man tapped the tablet. A screen lit up—brain scans, charts, dates.
My blood ran cold.
"You're going to drug me," I said. "Make me forget."
"Not forget," she corrected. "Reframe. You already have gaps. We'll widen them. When Riyan finds you again—"
"If," she amended.
"—you'll tell a convincing story," she finished. "One where Arjun begged you to lie. One where you caused the chaos. One where Riyan believes you… but doubts himself."
I stood abruptly.
"You won't touch me."
Two guards moved instantly.
She raised a hand, stopping them.
"You won't fight," she said calmly. "You came here to save them. This is the price."
My throat burned.
"And Arjun?" I asked.
She turned away. "He'll be returned to where he belongs."
"Alive?" I pressed.
She paused.
Long enough to answer without lying.
"Contained," she said again.
The man stepped closer, syringe prepared.
I backed up until the glass wall pressed cold against my spine.
Think.
Now.
"You can't do this quietly anymore," I said fast. "Riyan knows. He's already moving."
She tilted her head. "Let him."
"You underestimate him," I said. "And you always underestimated me."
Her eyes flicked to mine—curious.
"I'm not alone," I continued. "Everything you say here is being recorded."
Silence snapped tight.
The man froze.
She didn't move—but the air changed.
"That's a lie," she said.
I smiled. "Check."
Her gaze slid to the tablet.
A small icon blinked.
LIVE SYNC — ACTIVE
Her composure cracked.
Just a hairline fracture—but enough.
"You wouldn't," she said.
"I already did," I replied. "The moment you admitted using Riyan's signature. The moment you said 'contained.'"
The door at the far end slammed open.
Footsteps—fast, furious.
A voice cut through the room like thunder.
"Step away from her."
Riyan.
He stood there with Arjun beside him—bloodied, breathing hard, eyes burning alive.
Guards moved.
Riyan raised his phone.
"Do it," he said calmly. "I sent everything to three places. Move, and the world hears your voice."
His mother stared at him.
At both her sons.
At the girl she thought she could erase.
And for the first time—
She looked afraid.