"No."
Elara said it before Liam could say anything else.
Before he could explain.
Before he could look at her like that again—
like he already knew something she didn't.
"No," she repeated, louder this time.
Her voice wasn't steady anymore.
It wasn't controlled.
It was sharp.
Defensive.
Angry.
"Don't say things like that," she snapped."Don't stand there and act like this is something I'm supposed to understand."
Liam didn't move.
Didn't argue.
That made it worse.
"Say something," she demanded.
Still nothing.
Just that look.
Calm.
Too calm.
Like this moment had already happened.
Like he had seen her react this way—
before.
Her chest tightened.
"I don't remember any of this," she said.
Her words came faster now.
"I don't remember those people. I don't remember making those decisions. I don't remember—"
"You do."
The interruption was quiet.
Not forceful.
But absolute.
Elara froze.
Her breath caught.
"No," she said immediately.
Too fast.
Too certain.
Because she had to be.
Because if she wasn't—
everything would fall apart.
Liam took a step closer.
Slow.
Careful.
Like approaching something fragile.
"You remember," he said again.
Elara shook her head violently.
"I don't."
But her voice—
cracked.
Just a little.
Enough.
Liam stopped.
Not because she told him to.
Because he understood.
That she wasn't ready.
And that—
made her angrier.
"Stop looking at me like that," she said.
Her hands were shaking now.
She didn't hide it.
Didn't try to.
Because she was too busy holding everything else together.
"You think you know what happened?" she continued."You think you can just stand there and tell me who I was?"
Liam didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
That silence—
was already an answer.
Elara laughed.
Short.
Sharp.
Wrong.
"Fine," she said.
"Then tell me."
She stepped closer now.
Her turn.
Her space.
Her control.
"Tell me what I did."
The words hung between them.
Heavy.
Challenging.
Liam looked at her.
Really looked.
And for a second—
something in his expression changed.
Not hesitation.
Not uncertainty.
Something else.
Pain.
That—
caught her off guard.
"You don't want to hear that from me," he said quietly.
Her jaw tightened.
"No," she replied.
Her voice low.
Cold.
"I want to hear it from myself."
The moment the words left her mouth—
everything shifted.
Not around her.
Inside her.
Her breath hitched.
Her vision blurred—
just for a second.
Then—
it came.
Not slowly.
Not gently.
All at once.
Rain.
Cold.
That same streetlight.
The girl.
CASE 03.
Standing in front of her.
Alive.
Shaking.
"Please," the girl said."I don't feel safe."
Elara—past Elara—stood there.
Arms crossed.
Expression controlled.
Thinking.
Analyzing.
Choosing.
"I think you're overreacting," she said.
The words hit harder this time.
Because she heard them clearly.
Because she said them.
"I'm not," the girl insisted."There's someone—"
"I understand how that feels," Elara interrupted."But you need to ground yourself."
Her breath caught.
She remembered that tone.
Professional.
Measured.
Detached.
Wrong.
The girl hesitated.
Looked at her.
Really looked.
Like she was deciding whether to trust her.
And then—
she nodded.
Slowly.
"…Okay."
That was it.
That was the moment.
Elara's chest tightened painfully.
Because she knew—
what came next.
The girl turned.
Walked away.
Alone.
Elara watched her go.
Didn't move.
Didn't call her back.
Didn't stop her.
Because she had already decided.
"She'll be fine," she had said.
To herself.
To no one.
A justification.
A conclusion.
A choice.
The memory snapped.
Hard.
Elara staggered back.
Her breath breaking.
Her hands gripping her head like she could push it out.
"No—"
This time—
it wasn't denial.
It was—
horror.
She looked at Liam.
Eyes wide.
Unsteady.
"I told her to leave," she whispered.
Her voice shaking.
"I told her she was safe."
The words felt like something sharp in her throat.
Like they didn't belong there.
Like they shouldn't exist.
But they did.
Because she said them.
Because she chose them.
Liam didn't move.
Didn't interrupt.
Didn't soften it.
He just stood there.
Letting her feel it.
All of it.
"I could have stopped it," Elara said.
Her voice breaking now.
"I was right there."
Her hands trembled.
Her breathing uneven.
"I saw it happening— I just didn't—"
She stopped.
Because finishing that sentence—
would destroy whatever was left.
But she already knew the ending.
She always had.
"I didn't act," she finished.
Quiet.
Destroyed.
Liam closed his eyes briefly.
Not in frustration.
Not in relief.
In something else.
Something that looked like—
acceptance.
"That's what you've been running from," he said.
Soft.
Not accusing.
Not gentle.
Just—
true.
Elara shook her head.
"No…"
But this time—
it was weaker.
Fading.
Because she couldn't deny it anymore.
Not after seeing it.
Not after feeling it.
Not after remembering—
exactly how it happened.
Her breath trembled.
"…How many times?" she asked again.
Liam didn't answer.
He didn't have to.
Because now—
she could feel it.
Not just one memory.
Not just one mistake.
A pattern.
Repeating.
Looping.
Breaking—
and starting again.
And her—
in the center of it.
Every time.