Sleep never came.
Not for Catherine.
Not for Jack.
Not for anyone who had witnessed what happened that night.
The house felt different now.
Not like a home.
Like a place holding its breath.
Waiting.
Watching.
Catherine sat on the edge of the bed, her arms wrapped around herself.
The room was dark.
But her mind—
Her mind was louder than ever.
He's not your husband.
But he is…
He saved you.
But who fights like that?
She pressed her palms against her temples.
"Stop…" she whispered.
But the thoughts didn't stop.
Because no matter how hard she tried—
One truth refused to leave her.
When he held her…
It felt real.
Her eyes shut tightly.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
"This doesn't make sense…" she murmured.
Across the house—
Jack stood alone in the living room.
The lights were off.
Only faint moonlight filtered through the windows.
He leaned against the wall, his breathing slow, controlled.
But inside—
Nothing was controlled.
He replayed everything.
The gunshots.
The movement.
The fight.
The way his body reacted—
Without thinking.
Without hesitation.
Like it already knew what to do.
"That's not normal…" he muttered.
His hand clenched into a fist.
Then—
A flicker.
A flash of something—
Not a thought.
A memory.
He froze.
A room.
Dark.
Cold.
Metal.
Voices.
Distant.
Distorted.
"Again."
Jack's breath hitched.
"What…?"
Another flash.
Hands.
Not his—
Or were they?
Blood.
A man on the ground.
Begging.
"No…" Jack whispered, stepping back.
Then—
Pain.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Exploding inside his head.
He grabbed his temples, dropping to one knee.
"Stop… stop…"
But it didn't stop.
More images.
Faster now.
Stronger.
Running.
Fighting.
Shooting.
Commands.
Orders.
Control.
"You don't have a past."
The voice was clear this time.
Cold.
Authoritative.
"You are what we made you."
Jack's eyes widened.
"No…"
"You don't remember."
His breathing became uneven.
His chest rising and falling rapidly.
"You don't question."
"STOP!" Jack shouted.
The echo of his voice filled the empty house.
Then—
Silence.
The pain faded.
The images disappeared.
But the feeling remained.
Fear.
Real fear.
Jack slowly lifted his head.
Sweat covered his skin.
His heart pounded violently.
"That wasn't… mine," he whispered.
But deep down—
He wasn't sure anymore.
Because it felt real.
Too real.
Like something buried.
Something hidden.
Something he was never supposed to see.
Upstairs—
Catherine heard the shout.
Her eyes snapped open.
"Jack…?"
She hesitated.
Her heart racing.
Her mind warning her to stay away.
But her body moved anyway.
Slowly—
Carefully—
She stepped out of the room.
The hallway was quiet.
Too quiet.
She followed the sound.
Each step cautious.
Uncertain.
Until—
She reached the stairs.
And saw him.
Jack was on one knee.
Breathing heavily.
His hand still pressed against his head.
He looked—
Broken.
Not dangerous.
Not cold.
Not controlled.
Just…
Lost.
"Jack…" she called softly.
He looked up.
And for a moment—
Just a moment—
There was something in his eyes she hadn't seen before.
Fear.
Not of her.
Not of anyone else.
Of himself.
"I… saw something," he said.
His voice was unsteady.
Unfamiliar.
Catherine stepped closer.
Carefully this time.
Not running.
Not retreating.
"What did you see?" she asked.
Jack shook his head slowly.
"I don't know…" he admitted. "But it wasn't right."
Her heart tightened.
"Tell me," she said gently.
He hesitated.
Then—
"I heard a voice," he said. "It said… I don't have a past."
Catherine's breath caught.
"It said…" he continued, his voice dropping lower, "…I am what they made me."
Silence.
Something inside Catherine shifted.
Because this—
This wasn't just confusion anymore.
This was something deeper.
Something darker.
"Who are 'they'?" she whispered.
Jack looked at her.
And for the first time—
He didn't try to pretend.
Didn't try to reassure her.
Didn't try to be strong.
"I don't know," he said.
And somehow—
That made everything worse.
Because if he didn't know who he was—
Then who exactly had come back to her?
From the hallway—
Unseen.
Unheard.
A shadow lingered.
Still.
Silent.
Listening.
Richard.
And this time—
He wasn't smiling.
Because something had changed.
Something unexpected.
Jack…
Was starting to remember.