Chapter 1

I loved Brandon for ten years.

Loved him so much I was willing to let him personally remove my memories.

He said, "Alice, forget the things that hurt you. Let's start fresh."

The surgery was a success.

I forgot who Scarlett was, forgot why I cried myself to sleep every night.

Until I found a hidden compartment in his study.

Inside, an entire wall of surveillance screens, all focused on my hospital room.

And Scarlett, wearing my nightgown, leaned into his arms, laughing softly.

"Brandon, once she's completely gone, those shares from the Brown family will be ours."

At that moment, my excised hippocampus throbbed violently.

I remembered. I was never sick.

He was driving me insane, little by little!

Brandon pushed the door open. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Does your head still hurt today?"

I shook my head, instinctively leaning into his embrace.

In the three months since the surgery, Brandon had been unbelievably good to me.

He'd cancel all his business meetings to be there for my rehab, and he'd hold my hand all night when I had nightmares.

But there was always this empty void inside me, just a dull ache.

"Brandon, did I used to love you a lot?"

I suddenly looked up at him.

Brandon's fingers, which were tidying my hair, paused.

"Of course."

He smiled, gripping my hand.

"You loved me so much you'd do anything for me."

It sounded like a declaration of love.

But I inexplicably shivered.

Just then, the sound of an engine drifted in from outside the window.

A car door opened, and a woman took off her sunglasses, looking up.

A sharp pain suddenly stabbed my temple.

"Who is she?"

I clutched my head in agony.

Brandon drew the curtains, his voice flat.

"Just someone unimportant. Don't worry about it."

But that night, I dreamt again.

The dream was full of fragmented scenes.

A woman's laughter, Brandon's cold profile, and my own hysterical crying.

I woke up covered in cold sweat. Brandon wasn't in bed.

Against my better judgment, I found myself walking into his study – the one place he never let me enter.

The password for the lock was my birthday.

I paused, a faint warmth spreading through me.

Until I opened the hidden compartment behind the bookshelf.

An entire wall of screens lit up.

Sixteen feeds, from the bedroom to the bathroom, from the living room to the garden.

Three hundred and sixty degrees, no blind spots.

And in one of the feeds, Brandon was sitting in a hospital monitoring room, staring expressionlessly at me on the screen.

Beside him stood the red-lipped woman from earlier that day.

She leaned on his shoulder, her fingers suggestively tracing his Adam's apple.

"How much longer until she completely loses her memory?"

The woman asked curiously.

Brandon stared at the confused me on the screen, his voice detached.

"Soon."

"Once she signs the share transfer agreement, we can send her to a mental institution."

I stumbled backward, knocking over a photo frame on the bookshelf.

Inside the frame was a picture of Brandon and me.

I was smiling brightly in the photo, but Brandon's eyes were looking off-camera.

I picked up the photo from the floor and instinctively flipped it over. "Scarlett Jensen" was written on the back.

When Brandon rushed into the study, I had already turned off the screens.

"Alice?"

He tried to take my hand.

I sharply pulled it back, staring at him warily.

"Those cameras… what do they mean?"

My voice trembled uncontrollably.

Brandon's face froze.

He was silent for a few seconds, then his tone changed when he spoke again.

"For your safety. You've been prone to self-harm after your surgery. I was worried."

What a perfect excuse.

If I hadn't overheard his conversation with Scarlett, I almost would have believed him.

"Who is Scarlett?"

I demanded, staring into his eyes.

Brandon's pupils constricted almost imperceptibly.

"A business partner."

He shifted his gaze, his voice turning cold.

"You don't need to know."

"But I feel like I know her!"

I insisted. "My head hurts so much when I see her."

"That's a normal post-surgery reaction."

Brandon put on his gentle facade again, reaching out to rub my temple.

"Don't overthink it, Alice. Your most important task right now is to recover."