Chapter 25
Chapter 25 (Eleanor’s POV)
I sat cross-legged on my bed, the stolen hospital folder spread out in front of me like a broken map.
Papers.
Reports.
Technical terms I didn’t fully understand.
But I tried.
I read every line slowly, carefully, like each word could unlock a door inside me.
---
The morning light filtered through my curtains, casting pale stripes across the floor.
My coffee sat untouched on my nightstand, growing cold.
I didn’t care.
I barely even noticed the time slipping by.
The only thing that mattered was this.
The truth.
---
Every report confirmed the same thing.
I wasn’t crazy.
I wasn’t imagining the dreams.
I wasn’t making up the way Alex felt so real.
They did something to me.
They messed with my mind.
My memories.
My heart.
---
I found a note tucked between two thick reports.
It was handwritten — messy and fast, like the writer was afraid of getting caught.
"Subject Hayes shows unusual emotional attachment resilience.
Project Eden Phase II recommended."
Project Eden.
My stomach twisted.
That was the first time I saw an actual name for it.
Not just "trial" or "program."
It sounded bigger.
Scarier.
Like I was part of something way more complicated than just a medical experiment.
---
I leaned back against my headboard, closing my eyes for a second.
The images flashed again.
Alex holding my hand.
Laughing at something stupid I said.
Tucking a blanket around me when I fell asleep on the couch.
I pressed my palms to my face, trying to hold the pieces together.
How could they think they could just erase that?
How could they think love was something you could cut out like a tumor?
---
My phone buzzed against the bed.
I jumped, heart racing, before grabbing it.
Lena.
“Hey, you busy? Wanna grab a coffee? I’m bored stiff here.”
I stared at the message for a long time.
Part of me wanted to say no.
Hide.
Stay buried in these papers, chasing ghosts.
But another part of me — the part that was still human — needed a break.
Needed to breathe.
---
"Sure," I texted back.
"See you in 20."
I stuffed the hospital folder deep under my mattress, like if I hid it well enough, the fear wouldn't find it.
Then I pulled on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed my bag, and headed out.
---
The air was crisp and fresh outside, hinting that summer wasn’t far off.
The streets buzzed softly — cars, laughter, the smell of bakery bread floating through the breeze.
Normal things.
Safe things.
If I didn’t know better, I could almost believe everything was fine.
Almost.
---
I met Lena at our usual coffee shop — a tiny place tucked between a bookstore and a florist.
She was already there, tapping her foot impatiently and waving when she saw me.
"About time," she teased, handing me a cup.
I smiled and sank into the seat across from her.
"Thanks," I said, taking a grateful sip.
The warmth spread through me, calming some of the nerves still buzzing under my skin.
---
We talked for a while — or rather, Lena talked and I listened.
She filled the space with stories about Mike, her parents, the new movie she wanted to see.
I nodded, smiled, laughed when I had to.
But my mind wasn’t really there.
It was still stuck back in my room.
Still piecing together broken memories and stolen lives.
---
At some point, Lena stopped mid-sentence and stared at me.
"Okay," she said slowly.
"What’s going on with you?"
I blinked, pretending not to understand.
"What do you mean?"
"You’re not here," she said, waving her hand in front of my face.
"You haven’t been here for days."
I shrugged, trying to play it off.
"Just stressed. School. You know."
Lena narrowed her eyes.
"No. This is different. You’re... scared. And sad. And angry all at once. It’s written all over your face."
She leaned closer across the table, lowering her voice.
"Did something happen? Are you in trouble?"
I swallowed hard.
The words rose up my throat, burning.
I wanted to tell her everything.
About Rick.
About the chemistry boy.
About Mr. Reed.
About the folder hidden under my bed.
About Alex.
About the love I could feel slipping further away every day.
But I couldn't.
Because if I told her, she’d be a target too.
If they knew I dragged someone else into this...
I wouldn’t forgive myself.
---
"I’m fine," I said finally, forcing a smile.
Lena didn’t look convinced.
But she didn’t push.
She just sat back in her chair, stirring her coffee slowly.
"If you ever want to talk," she said quietly, "I’m here."
I nodded, feeling the weight of the lie settle heavier on my chest.
---
We sat in silence for a while, sipping our drinks, pretending we weren’t broken in different ways.
Finally, Lena stood and slung her bag over her shoulder.
"I gotta run," she said.
"Mike’s dragging me to some family dinner. Pray for me."
I smiled weakly.
"Good luck."
She grinned and waved as she disappeared into the crowd.
And then I was alone again.
---
I stayed at the coffee shop a little longer, staring out the window at the people passing by.
Couples holding hands.
Families laughing.
Students rushing with backpacks bouncing.
All moving through a world that made sense to them.
A world where memories stayed where they belonged.
A world where love wasn’t something you had to fight to remember.
---
I pulled my hoodie tighter around myself and stood up.
It was time to go home.
Time to dig deeper.
Time to stop being afraid.
---
The bus ride home was quiet.
I sat by the window, my fingers tracing shapes on the foggy glass.
My mind buzzed with questions.
Who exactly was Mr. Reed?
How deep did this "Project Eden" go?
Was Alex even alive?
Was he looking for me too?
Or had they wiped him clean?
Erased me from his heart like they tried to erase him from mine?
---
I shook my head.
No.
I couldn’t think like that.
I had to believe.
Had to trust the flashes.
Had to trust the love that burned inside me like a second heartbeat.
---
When I got home, the house was quiet.
Dad was working late.
Chris was at soccer practice.
Mom was probably running errands.
I locked my bedroom door behind me and pulled the folder back out from under my mattress.
I spread the papers out again, searching for anything I missed.
---
One file caught my eye.
It was thinner than the others.
Just a single page.
I picked it up, my hands trembling slightly.
At the top, in bold letters, it said:
"Eleanor Hayes - Crosslink Subject Summary"
Crosslink?
I frowned, reading quickly.
---
"Subject Hayes exhibits spontaneous Crosslink Events with Subject X despite standard separation protocols.
Emotional memory traces suggest persistence beyond neural barriers.
Recommendation: Increase monitoring. Consider Phase III if link cannot be severed naturally."
---
I sat back, heart racing.
Crosslink.
That’s what the flashes were.
Not just dreams.
Not just fragments.
Real connections.
Real memories leaking through.
Our bond — me and Alex — was strong enough to survive whatever they did to us.
They couldn’t kill it.
Couldn’t erase it.
Couldn’t sever it.
Not completely.
---
Tears blurred my vision.
Not sadness.
Not fear.
Hope.
For the first time in weeks, real hope.
I wiped my face roughly and shoved the papers back into the folder.
Tomorrow, I would keep digging.
Tomorrow, I would find the hospital archives.
The real ones.
The hidden ones.
Tomorrow, I would find the names behind Project Eden.
The people who tried to destroy us.
And I would make sure they never hurt us again.
---
Outside my window, the sun was starting to set, painting the sky in soft gold and pink.
A promise.
A reminder.
A new beginning.
Somewhere out there, Alex was breathing the same air.
Looking at the same sky.
Missing me too.
I could feel it.
And no matter what stood in our way...
We were finding our way back to each other.
One broken memory at a time.