Page 130 of I Will Mend You

I cup her cheek. “It’s me. Are you alright?”

She nods, her eyes unfocused. “I had a new memory.”

Exhaling my relief, I sit back on my heels. She tries to rise, but I push her back down to the mat. “Not yet. You can tell me about it while resting.”

She inhales a deep, shuddering breath. “I remember some of what happened before the diary. Mostly the summer camp. That’s where we first met Delta.”

Her voice cracks, and I can feel the pain behind every word. I squeeze her hand, grounding her in the present. “You’re safe now, Amethyst. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“It was in a campus in the woods. He supervised our training and sent us out on missions.”

A sharp breath whistles through my teeth. Camila gasps but remains silent. We’ve both picked apart the diary we received from the Salentino sisters. It’s the most damning evidence we’ve had in years, indicating that Father didn’t discontinue the Lolita assassins, but hearing that the events are true puts them into a horrifying new perspective.

“My dad...” She shakes off that thought. “My stepdad drove us to the Three Fates Boarding School. That’s where we met Delta for the first time.”

I listen to her story, my eyes widening as I piece together the fragments of her past. Every word she speaks is a knife to my heart. Father told the girls the same lie he told us to make their missions more palatable. The syringes never contained sedatives but poisons.

We boys at my underground facility had the luxury of injecting our targets as we walked past them in public. Lolitas had to enter their private spaces.

Fury pounds through my veins as Amethyst describes three assignments. Each one she recounts brings up a wave of anger, but I force myself to stay calm. The first was a dinner party the twins had to endure before they were taken upstairs to kill the hosts. The second was a house event where children were treatedlike party favors. They performed the third mission together, killing a high-ranking police officer.

I breathe hard, forcing myself to process my anger. Amethyst needs my support, not my rage. I can’t let my emotions overshadow her need to be heard. I don’t want any of my reactions to feel like judgment.

“Do you remember any landmarks from when you were at Three Fates?” Camila asks from my side.

Amethyst pauses for several heartbeats, her brow furrowing. “We passed the airport... I remember Dolly asking if Three Fates was overseas. When we were outside, we could see and hear planes landing and taking off.”

I nod, processing this new detail. “That’s good. It gives us a location to start with.” I glance over at my sister, who’s already messaging Tyler. “Anything else?”

She licks her lips, a nervous habit I’ve noticed before. “There was a water tower shaped like a kettle. And Dad... He had an assistant called Becky Taylor. He dumped our suitcases at her house by the airport when he drove us to Three Fates. On the way back, he picked them up.”

Camila taps down the details.

“Thank you,” I say, my chest tightening. The words feel inadequate for the gratitude and sorrow I feel for what the hell she’s endured.

I squeeze her hand. “You’re incredibly brave, little ghost. Thank you for sharing this with us.”

Amethyst sits up, her eyes brightening with determination. “I want to continue sparring.”

Seeing her push herself is like a knife to the chest. “You need to rest and recover.”

“But fighting is the only thing that’s brought back my memories,” she says, her voice cracking.

The pain in her eyes tugs at my heart, making it hard to deny her. But I can’t let her continue to get hurt. I need to find a safer alternative. “There are other ways to access your memories that don’t involve getting knocked out. Do you want to talk to someone?”

She shakes her head and sighs, her lips tightening. “I’m sick of psychiatrists. Talking to Dr. Saint never got me anything but frustrated.”

“Let’s see Dr. Dixon. He’s our Chief Medical Officer.”

Camila leaves to help Tyler with the new leads, promising to keep me updated. I drive Amethyst through the tunnels to our infirmary. This is our most expensive safe house, equipped with operating theaters and state-of-the-art scanners. Thanks to my connections with the Moirai’s support staff, we’re always up to date with the latest medical advancements.

“Stay with me?” she asks as we take the stairs through the basement.

My gaze drops to her huge, green eyes, which shine with a vulnerability that makes me want to wrap her up in cotton wool. I reach out, taking her hand in mine, offering the comfort of my touch.

“Always,” I say, my voice choked.

I stay with Amethyst throughout her MRI scan, neurological exam, and final toxicology screen. When Dr. Dixon gives her a clean bill of health, he advises against forcing new memories.

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