# Chapter Three: The Weight of a Lie
The morning light felt like a physical assault. Calla woke up in the guest suite of the East Wing, but for a moment, she didn't know which "Calla" she was. Her head was a crowded theater where three different versions of the Thorne family were performing at once. She could feel the grandmother's phantom joy in her fingertips, the father's jagged rage in her jaw, and—deepest of all—the cold, suffocating silence of the girl from the balcony.
She rolled over and groaned, her skin pale and clammy. This was the "Removal Hangover." When you absorbed a Level Ten Black Echo, your body treated it like a viral infection. Her white blood cells were literally fighting the foreign emotions in her veins.
A soft knock at the door made her flinch.
"Miss Vance? I've brought something for the tremors."
It was Elias. His voice was still low, but the flat, "Blank" quality had been replaced by a tentative thread of concern. Calla pulled the duvet up to her chin as the door pushed open.
Elias Thorne didn't look like a cold billionaire this morning. He had discarded his suit jacket, his white sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with tension. He held a silver tray with a steaming porcelain cup.
"It's a tincture of willow bark and neural-stabilizers," he said, setting the tray on the nightstand. He didn't look her in the eye. "My family's physician used to keep it on hand. For... for after the episodes."
Calla sat up slowly, her hair a bird's nest of tangles. "You didn't have to do this, Mr. Thorne. I'm an employee, not a guest."
"You are carrying my sister's death inside your lungs, Calla," he said, his voice suddenly sharp. He sat on the edge of the bed, and the sheer proximity of him made the Echoes inside her vibrate. "That makes you more than an employee. It makes you a martyr."
He reached out, his hand hovering near her face as if he wanted to check her temperature, but he pulled back at the last second. The "Blank" man was terrified of his own touch.
"Drink," he commanded softly.
Calla took the cup. The liquid was bitter, but almost instantly, the "screaming" in her head dimmed to a dull hum. She looked at him over the rim of the cup. "Elias... about the Nursery. I saw things. Things you might not remember clearly."
His face went instantly back to stone. "I remember enough. I remember the rain. I remember the sound. You don't need to analyze the Echo, Calla. You just need to neutralize it."
He stood up, the wall of ice slamming back into place. "I have a meeting with the board of directors. You are to stay in bed until the tremors stop. That is an order."
### The Floorboards
As soon as the heavy oak door clicked shut, Calla threw off the covers. She didn't have time to rest. The Black Echo was already beginning to "digest" inside her, and as it faded, the visual clues from the memory would fade too.
She dressed quickly in her grey work tunic and slipped back into the hallway. The Nursery felt different now. Without the pulsing shadow in the center, it was just a cold, empty room with peeling wallpaper and a sense of profound loneliness.
Calla knelt in the exact spot where the "Father" had stood in the memory. In the psychic loop, she had seen his boot scuff against a loose board while he watched his daughter fall.
She ran her hands over the floor, her "Remover" sensitivity acting like a sonar. *There.*
A board near the balcony door was slightly higher than the others. She pulled a small pry-tool from her kit and wedged it into the gap. With a groan of protesting wood, the board popped up.
It wasn't a locket. It wasn't a letter.
Tucked into a nest of dust and old insulation was a small, blackened piece of hardware. It looked like a spider made of copper and silicon. Calla's heart stopped. She recognized it from her textbooks at the Academy. It was a **Class-7 Neural Emitter.**
This was illegal tech. It was used in high-level espionage to "write" thoughts into a target's brain. But this one was modified. It had a bio-sensor lead that was still stained with a dark, brownish crust—old blood.
"Oh, Elias," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.
The device proved everything. His father hadn't just lied; he had used a machine to physically burn the guilt into his son's mind. He had turned his child into a living hard drive for his own sins.
### The Intruder
"Finding what you're looking for, Miss Vance?"
Calla jumped, nearly dropping the device as she scrambled to her feet. Standing in the doorway was a man she hadn't met. He was in his sixties, wearing a suit that cost more than Calla's entire education. He had the Thorne eyes—cold and grey—but his smile didn't reach them.
"I'm Julian Vane, the family's legal counsel," the man said, stepping into the room. He looked at the open floorboard, then at the device in Calla's hand. "And you must be the girl who thinks she can fix what is broken."
"I was hired to clean the house, Mr. Vane," Calla said, slipping the Emitter into her pocket. "That's all."
"Is it?" Vane walked closer, his presence feeling like an Echo of his own—something sharp and predatory. "The Ministry of Forgetting sends us Removers every few years. Most of them take the money, absorb a few tears, and leave. But you... you have a look in your eye that I find very concerning."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Elias is a 'Blank' for a reason. He is stable because he is empty. If you start filling his head with 'truths' that don't belong there, you won't just lose your contract. You'll lose your license. Or worse."
"Are you threatening me?" Calla asked, her blood boiling with the residual rage of Elias's father.
"I'm advising you," Vane said, straightening his tie. "This house is a delicate ecosystem. Don't disturb the balance. Clean the basement, take your check, and disappear. For your own sake."
As Vane walked away, Calla felt the weight of the Emitter in her pocket. It felt like a ticking bomb. She knew now that the conspiracy to keep Elias "Blank" wasn't just a family secret—it was a legal one.
She looked out at the balcony where the tragedy had happened. She had the proof, but she was trapped. She couldn't tell Elias yet without killing him, and the family lawyer was already onto her.
She needed to get into the basement. She needed to find the "Master Emitter"—the machine that could safely reverse the process.
Calla pulled out her phone and sent a quick, coded message to her contact at the Academy: *I've found a Class-7. It's a transplant. I need a Neutralization Protocol for a Level Ten Black. High risk. Send immediately.*
She looked at the door. She had to find Elias before Vane did. She had to see the man behind the ice one more time before she risked everything to set him free.