Chapter Seventeen: The Analyst

Felix didn't trust me.

He never said it outright. He was too professional for that. But I could see it in the way he watched me. The way he paused before answering my questions. The way he double-checked every piece of information I provided.

I didn't blame him. I wouldn't have trusted me either.

We were in the conference room. Adrian was there. Sloane was there. Felix had spread documents across the table—bank statements, transfer records, photographs of Julian and Volkov together.

"These are the accounts you identified," Felix said, pointing to a column of numbers. "All verified. All connected to the shell company."

I nodded. I already knew that.

"And these are the transfers from the trust fund. Mira's withdrawals. Julian's deposits. It's all here."

"I know."

Felix looked at me. He didn't blink. "How do you know?"

I met his gaze. "I paid attention."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

He leaned back in his chair. He folded his arms. He looked at Adrian.

"Mr. Kane. With respect. I've been doing this for ten years. I've never seen information this accurate come from someone with no background in finance. No training. No access. It doesn't make sense."

Adrian didn't react. He just looked at Felix. Then at me.

"Felix has a point," he said.

I looked at him. "You're questioning me?"

"I'm asking you to explain."

I set down my pen. I looked at Felix. Then at Adrian. Then at Sloane.

"I can't explain," I said. "Not in a way you'd believe."

"Try."

I was quiet for a moment. Then I said, "I knew Julian. Better than anyone. I lived with him for two years. I watched him. I listened. I remembered. When you live with someone, you learn things. You notice patterns. You see the things they think they're hiding."

Felix frowned. "That doesn't explain how you know account numbers."

"No. It doesn't."

He waited.

"I found documents," I said. "In his office. In his safe. I memorized them. I didn't know what I was looking at then. I just knew it was important."

"And you remembered all of it? Every account? Every transfer?"

"I have a good memory."

Felix didn't look convinced. But he didn't push.

Adrian did.

"Felix," he said. "Step out."

Felix looked at him. Then at me. Then back at Adrian. He stood. He gathered his documents. He left the room.

The door closed.

Adrian looked at me. "The truth."

I held his gaze. "You know the truth."

"I want to hear you say it."

I was quiet. Sloane was quiet. The room was quiet.

"I remember things," I said. "From before. From my previous life. Documents. Conversations. Plans. I remember all of it."

Adrian didn't react. He just waited.

"When I woke up in my childhood bedroom, I remembered everything. The betrayal. The fall. The years before. It's all still there. Every detail."

Sloane spoke for the first time. "That's impossible."

"I know."

"You're saying you lived this before?"

"I'm saying I died. And then I woke up. Five years earlier. With all my memories intact."

Sloane looked at Adrian. He didn't look surprised. He looked like he already knew.

"She's telling the truth," he said.

Sloane stared at him. "You believe her?"

"I was at her wedding. The first one. I saw her die. And then I saw her walk into my office. Alive."

Sloane didn't respond. She just looked at me. Really looked.

"Okay," she said. "I don't understand it. But I believe you."

I nodded. "Thank you."

She didn't smile. But something in her expression shifted. Something closer to respect.

Adrian stood. "Felix doesn't need to know. Not yet. Not until we're ready."

"And when will we be ready?" I asked.

"When Julian is destroyed. When Volkov is neutralized. When the Ashfords can't hurt anyone else."

I nodded. "And then?"

He looked at me. "And then we figure out what comes next."

---

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed. I thought about Felix. I thought about Sloane. I thought about what I'd told them.

I got up. I walked to the living room. Adrian was there. He was standing by the window.

"You told them," he said.

"I had to. Felix was suspicious. Sloane was watching. I couldn't keep lying."

"You could have. You're good at it."

I looked at him. "I don't want to be good at it. Not with you. Not with them."

He turned. He looked at me. That same unnamed something crossed his face. This time, he didn't hide it.

"I know," he said.

We stood there. The city hummed outside. The clock ticked.

"I've never told anyone," I said. "Not the whole truth. Not even close."

"I know."

"You're the only person who knows."

He walked to the couch. He sat down. He didn't say anything. He just waited.

I sat beside him.

"I thought I was losing my mind," I said. "When I woke up. When I realized what had happened. I thought I was crazy."

"But you weren't."

"No. I was just—"

"Alive."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I don't know why I'm here," I said. "I don't know why I got a second chance. I don't know if it matters."

"It matters."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're here. And I'm not alone."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

He reached for my hand. He didn't take it. He just rested his fingers near mine. Close enough to touch. Not touching.

"I'm not alone either," he said.

We sat there. The city hummed. The clock ticked.

After a while, I leaned my head against his shoulder. He didn't move. He just let me.

We stayed there until the sun came up.