Page 64 of Never Quite Gone

“Since the beginning.” Her honesty did nothing to soften the blow. “Some of us remember, some don't. But only you were affected by the...” she hesitated, choosing words carefully, “the memento to forget.”

I laughed, but the sound held no humor. “The memento to forget? That's what we're calling it?” Around us, the park continued its morning routine, oblivious to worlds shattering. “I trusted you. Through everything – Michael's death, Vale's accusations, all of it. And you've been what? Watching me stumble through memories like some kind of experiment?”

“It wasn't like that.” Sofia reached for me, but I stepped back. “We were trying to protect you. The memories... they can be overwhelming if they come too fast.”

“Protect me?” The betrayal felt like a physical thing, pressing against my ribs. “By lying? By watching me think I was going crazy?”

“You weren't ready.” Her voice held centuries of patience I didn't want to hear. “After Michael, after everything... you needed time.”

“Time for what? To be manipulated? To have everyone around me playing some cosmic game I didn't know the rules to?”

A jogger swerved around us, probably wondering why two adults were having an argument in the middle of the path at 7 AM. The normalcy of it – running shoes on gravel, dogs barking in the distance, the smell of morning coffee – felt obscene against the weight of what I was learning.

“Did Vale know?” I demanded suddenly. “Is that what all this has been about? Everyone playing their assigned roles while I fumbled around in the dark?”

“Eli, please?—”

“No.” My hands shook as I backed away from her. “No more explanations. No more protection. No more lies.”

“Where are you going?”

“To work.” I couldn't keep the bitterness from my voice. “Since that's apparently the only real thing in my life right now.”

“Eli, wait?—”

But I was already walking away, my surgeon's hands shaking with betrayal rather than memory. Behind me, I heard Sofia call out once more, but I didn't turn. Couldn't turn.

Last night's joy felt tainted now. Had that been orchestrated too? Part of some grand plan I wasn't allowed to know about?

Who could I trust when everyone in my life had been keeping secrets? When even Sofia, who'd held me through the worst moments after Michael's death, had been playing some role I didn't understand?

The hospital loomed ahead – solid, real, understandable. At least there, in the emergency department, things made sense. Medicine followed rules I could trust, patterns I could verify.

But even as I thought it, I remembered other healing – herbs ground with sacred purpose, battlefield medicine under ancient skies, hands that had saved lives across centuries.

Two weeks of leave was done. Time to be Dr. Monroe again, to focus on the present rather than impossible pasts or betrayed trust.

Even if nothing felt real anymore.

Even if every memory now had to be questioned.

Even if the people I'd trusted most had been lying all along.

The emergency department's automatic doors opened, welcoming me back to the one place that still made sense. Or at least, I hoped it did.

Right now, that hope was all I had left.

The emergency department welcomed me back with its usual controlled chaos. I threw myself into work, grateful for the distraction of straightforward medical problems. Broken bones.Allergic reactions. Things that made sense, that followed logical patterns.

“Welcome back, Dr. Monroe,” the charge nurse said warmly. “We've saved all the exciting cases for you.”

Three hours into my shift, I'd treated two sprained ankles, one moderate concussion, and a nasty case of food poisoning. My hands stayed steady through it all, finding comfort in familiar routines. No one here asked about past lives or ancient memories. No one watched me with careful calculation, waiting to see what I'd remember next.

“Your sutures are neater than ever,” Vale observed, appearing beside me as I finished with a laceration patient. His tone held none of its usual edge. “The break seems to have done you good.”

I tensed, waiting for more probing questions or veiled implications. But Vale just studied the patient's chart with professional interest.

“The board will be pleased,” he continued. “Though between us, I never doubted your competence.”

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