Ava's thoughts swirled in a storm of confusion and distrust. It had been a week since Eric's visit, and she hadn't seen him since. He had promised to help her uncover the truth, but Ava couldn't shake the feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her—something bigger than either of them. Her mind was clouded with fragmented memories, pieces of the past she had never been able to fully grasp.

Sitting at her kitchen table, she stared at the pile of case files before her, each one marking a moment in her career she'd left behind. She had always taken comfort in the clarity of her work—analyzing, diagnosing, fixing. But now, her mind seemed like a puzzle she couldn't solve. Every time she tried to focus on a single thought, it fragmented, shifting into something else, something deeper.

She was alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with the remnants of Marcus.

Ava closed her eyes, and for a moment, she could almost hear his voice. "You're not just a psychiatrist, Ava. You were always more."

A deep sigh left her lips, and she tried to shake off the memory, the echo of Marcus's words that had become a constant whisper in her mind.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, the sudden sound pulling her from the haze of her thoughts. She glanced down at it—one new message from Eric.

"Meet me at the old warehouse on Fifth. I need to show you something. It's time."

Ava stared at the screen, her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea what to expect. She wasn't sure if she even trusted Eric anymore. His cryptic message only made the unease inside her grow.

But she had no choice. If she wanted to find out the truth about what happened to her—about her past, about Marcus—she needed answers. And Eric was the only one who could provide them.

The warehouse loomed ahead, an imposing structure on the edge of town, its broken windows and rusted metal frame a testament to the years of neglect. Ava pulled into the parking lot, the tires of her car crunching on the gravel. She stepped out into the cold evening air, her coat pulled tightly around her.

Eric was already there, standing by the entrance, his silhouette framed by the dim lights from inside. He looked uneasy, pacing as if waiting for something—or someone.

"Ava," he said, his voice taut. "You made it."

"Of course I did," she replied, her voice flat. "What's this all about, Eric? What did you want to show me?"

He hesitated, then motioned for her to follow him into the warehouse. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the high walls as they entered, the dim glow of a single overhead light casting long shadows across the space.

"I've been digging into your past, Ava," Eric said, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "There's a lot more I need to show you."

Ava's brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words. "My past? Eric, you told me you'd help me remember, but now I feel like you're pulling me into something I don't understand."

He didn't answer immediately. Instead, he led her further into the warehouse, to a small, secluded room. The door creaked open, revealing a table in the center of the room, covered with old photographs, papers, and files. Some of them looked familiar, like case files she had worked on in the past, but there were others—documents, maps, and notes—she didn't recognize.

"Look at these," Eric said, pointing to the files. "These are from the last operation you were involved in. Before everything fell apart."

Ava took a step closer, her breath catching in her throat as she began to sift through the papers. Her hands shook as she picked up a photograph—one that seemed to send a jolt of recognition through her. It was of her, but she was younger, standing next to Marcus. The photograph was old, the edges yellowed with time.

"You were always more, Ava," the words echoed in her mind again, louder this time.

She dropped the photo, her heart hammering in her chest. She had no memory of this moment—of this time in her life—but the image was undeniable. It was as if a part of her had been hidden, buried so deep that she couldn't even remember it.

"Eric... What is this?" Ava's voice was shaky, almost pleading.

Eric didn't look at her. His gaze was fixed on the papers before them. "This is where it all started. You and Marcus... You were both part of something bigger than either of you realized."

Ava's stomach twisted into knots as she pieced together the fragments in her mind. The truth she'd been so desperate to avoid was now staring her in the face.

"I don't understand," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I don't remember any of this. Why don't I remember, Eric?"

He finally turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "Because you were never supposed to. You were a part of something... something that was erased. A memory wiped clean. All of it was part of a plan. A game. And Marcus was the architect of it all."

Ava's legs threatened to give out beneath her. She grabbed the edge of the table to steady herself, her breathing shallow. "No. No. This isn't possible. I... I was just doing my job. I was just trying to help."

Eric stepped closer, his voice low and serious. "You were helping them. You were helping Marcus and others like him. You were part of their network. You don't remember because you were made to forget."

Her mind spun. The walls around her felt like they were closing in. She wanted to scream, to run, to wake up from this nightmare.

But the truth was right in front of her, and there was no escaping it.

Ava staggered back, her head spinning. The pieces were coming together, but the puzzle wasn't finished. She still didn't have all the answers. She still didn't understand why Marcus had chosen her, why she was involved, or why her memories had been erased.

"I need to remember," she whispered to herself, the words almost as a prayer.

Eric's gaze softened, but there was a darkness in his eyes that Ava hadn't seen before. "I know. But we have to be careful, Ava. This isn't just about you. There are others involved. And the game is far from over."

Ava's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Eric didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, worn notebook. He placed it on the table in front of her. The cover was faded, and the pages yellowed with age.

"This is where it all started," Eric said quietly. "Your memories. Your past. Everything is in here. But I can't protect you from it any longer."

Ava stared at the notebook, the weight of its significance pressing down on her. Her fingers trembled as she reached for it, knowing that once she opened it, there would be no going back.