All Chapters of UNTIL YOU REMEMBER ME: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The boardroom empties slowly.One chair scrapes against the marble floor. Another director gathers his tablet with deliberate calm, as though the room has not just watched a video suggesting my accident might have been deliberate.No one looks directly at me.Not out of respect.Out of calculation.Board members file out in quiet clusters, murmuring low enough that their words dissolve into the hum of the air-conditioning system. Their footsteps echo along the glass corridor outside, fading one by one until the heavy doors swing shut.Silence finally settles.Only Adrian and I remain.The city spreads behind him through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Manhattan glowing under the late afternoon sun. Traffic moves in slow silver lines below. From this height everything looks controlled. Ordered. Predictable.Nothing like the chaos inside my mind.Adrian stands at the head of the table, one hand resting against the polished obsidian surface, the other in his pocket. His posture is composed

Sleep refuses to come.The city is quieter tonight, but my mind refuses to follow its rhythm. Every time I close my eyes, I see the same thing:Headlights.Rain on the windshield.A dark SUV closing the distance behind my car.And then—Nothing.A missing moment. A piece of time someone erased.I exhale slowly and sit up in bed. The digital clock beside the nightstand glows 2:13 AM.Across the penthouse, a faint strip of light spills from beneath Adrian’s office door.Of course he’s awake.I slip out of bed and pull on a soft sweater before walking quietly through the living area. The penthouse feels different at night—less like a luxurious space and more like a quiet observatory suspended above the city.Adrian’s office door is half open.Inside, he sits behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, a tablet glowing in front of him. Several printed documents are spread across the dark wood surface. Investigation reports.He looks up the moment he hears me.“You should be asleep,”

The words refuse to settle.The call came from inside Reyes Holdings.I stare at Adrian’s phone as if the message might change if I look long enough. But it doesn’t. The investigation team’s report remains on the screen.Call origin traced to internal Reyes Holdings routing hub.My pulse beats harder.“That’s impossible,” I say quietly.Adrian doesn’t respond immediately. “Is it?” he asks.I look up sharply. “You think someone inside your company tried to run me off the road?”“I think someone inside the building used our network.”“That’s not the same thing.”“No.”“But it narrows the field.”The room feels colder suddenly.“How narrow?” I ask.Adrian picks up the phone again. “Daniel’s team is tracing which internal access point routed the call.”“How many people have access to those systems?”“Hundreds.”“That’s not narrow.”“It will be.”“How?”“Security badge logs.”The realization creeps slowly into place.“You’re checking who was in the building that night.”“Yes.”“And compari

The file sits open on Adrian’s tablet like something dangerous.A small black square.A timestamp.Three years ago.Hospital security footage.For a moment, neither of us moves.The city glows beyond the penthouse windows, indifferent to the weight pressing down inside this room. Traffic hums far below. Somewhere a helicopter cuts across the night sky.But here—everything feels still.Adrian studies the screen. His jaw tight. His shoulders rigid in a way I’ve only seen a few times since waking up.“What is it?” I ask quietly.He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead he exhales slowly and rubs a hand over the back of his neck.“Daniel’s team recovered archived security footage,” he says finally.“From the hospital?”“Yes.”“But they said it was deleted.”“They did.”I step closer to the desk. “Then how does it exist?”Adrian’s eyes shift to mine. “Because someone saved a copy.”The implication settles slowly into my chest. Someone thought that night would matter later. Someone preserved

Marcus’s words echo in my ear long after the call ends.The footage you saw tonight… wasn’t the full recording.The line goes dead.Silence spreads across the terrace. Cold. Heavy.I slowly lower the phone.Adrian is watching me now. Not the city. Not the skyline. Me.“What did he say?” Adrian asks.I study his face carefully. Too carefully. Because Marcus’s accusation sits in my chest like a live wire.“He said the hospital footage was edited.”For a moment, Adrian doesn’t react. Then something hard flashes in his eyes.“Marcus is manipulating you.”“Is he?”“Yes.”“That wasn’t my question.”His jaw tightens.“Then ask the question you actually want answered.”The wind pushes across the terrace again. This time it feels colder. Sharper.“Was the footage edited?” I ask.Adrian’s gaze holds mine. Unblinking.“Yes.”The answer lands like a stone.My pulse spikes.“You showed me an edited video?”“I showed you the relevant part.”“That’s not the same thing.”“No.”“Then what’s missing?”