Elena Vanishing A Memoir Novels & Stories

I whispered, the words surfacing from a part of my mind that wasn't controlled by the lab. Caleb Vance let out a bloody cough from the corner. "She did it. The old woman actually did it. She didn't delete the memories, Elara. She didn't dump them into the Void. She cached them in the Trinity. She used the children as a distributed hard drive. To get your soul back, you don't have to remember. You have to d******d."

The woman standing outside our house looked like a ghost. Not because she was pale. Not because the wind moved through her dark hair like something out of a nightmare. But because I had seen her face before. In photographs. In old files. In memories Lucien had once told me about. And according to everyone who had known the truth— Isabella Voss was dead. Yet she stood beneath the moonlight, alive. Beside her stood Elena. Another woman who was supposed to have disappeared years ago.

“I don’t have all day for your dramatic buildup. What exactly did you find?” Caleb lowered his voice. “Elena claims she was held in some remote location with no contact for years, completely isolated, with no memory of how everything went and how she found her way back." "But I found credit card records showing she used her private account in Paris two weeks after she supposedly vanished. She stayed at a luxury spa under a fake name for four days. The pregnancy timeline she’s pushing doesn’t match any medical proof from before she disappeared. ultrasounds, blood work, nothing lines up with her captivity story."

I remembered that year — the hushed meetings, the strange boardroom glances, the way Eliana’s father had taken calls at 2 AM and hung up without speaking. “He needed dirt,” Vanessa went on. “Proof you weren’t fit. I found out they were hacking your accounts. Digging for anything — affairs, debts, backroom deals. They were looking for something that didn’t exist.” She finally lifted her eyes to mine — glassy but dry. “So I gave them something that did.” Eliana’s breath caught behind me. “What did you give them?” I asked. Vanessa’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Me.” The word split the room in two — one side that stayed warm with the hush of the ocean outside, the other side that iced over in my

I lay in the back of that van and stared at the ceiling and thought about Donatella's hands on my chest and the sound she'd made and understood for the first time what I had actually done to her. Not what Sergei had done. Not what Elena had orchestrated. What I had done. I had walked into her life wearing a dead man's face and I had let her love me and I had known the whole time that it was going to end exactly the way it ended. The ceiling of the van was grey and featureless. I stared at it for a long time. --- Elena had arranged a flat in Brussels. It was a place to recover and disappear while the world operated under the assumption that Jovani Rosfrith had died in a warehouse on a Tuesday

He opened it, revealing newspaper clippings. A woman’s face stared back at me. She looked… like me. Same hair. Same eyes. Same fragile curve of the mouth. “Her name was Elena,” Victor said. “She disappeared twenty years ago.” My throat went dry. “Why does she look like me?” “Because history has a cruel sense of humor.” I stepped back. “What happened to her?” Victor closed the file. “She loved the wrong man. Trusted the wrong people. And paid for it.”

Jake cooed, trying to soothe my frayed nerves. And then, it dawned on me—I had seen them in my old room. Yes. They were there. "They were just in my old room," I blurted out urgently, trying to get out of the bed, completely forgetting about the IV in my hand, "They must be in my old room. I-I have to....I have to get to them." Jake seized my arms, restraining me. "Elena, calm down." Why in the world would I calm down? I had just seen them! Was he out of his fucking mind?!

The grumpy man periled me, this was fate, I couldn't do anything but accept it. "Okay, we'll go with you just don't hurt us, " I said helping Haliyah from the ground and entered the van. My knees were trembling in fear when the bald man pressed the gun on my head while pushing me inside the van. I couldn't restrain my tears so I had no choice but to let them fall down my cheeks while I hid my face onto Haliyah's shoulders that was spacing out.

My goggling hands tore it open. The papers were scattered about the desk, weary old carbon copies of letters. I was struck with patent breath. The handwriting was hers. The pages belonged to her alone Then the photos. Sketches. Scaled pictures of stars, wildflowers, the decaying cabin that we'd wanted to rework together. Different things that Selene had written to me and things I thought had come to me in someone else. Why, they were Elara's! All of them? My knees collapsed and I fell to the floor shaking as I shuffled through them. There were words that were blurred with the tears in her eyes that were threatening to spill words of consolation, of devotion, of love.

The second those words left my mouth, two officers stepped out of the elevator. They looked straight at me. "Chloe Sanders, regarding Lily Walton's disappearance, we need you to cooperate with our investigation." I frowned but still invited the two officers into my home. Once seated on the couch, the older officer fixed me with a sharp look. "Chloe, are you really telling me you have no idea where Lily is?" I rolled my eyes internally, exhausted beyond words. From yesterday until now, I'd been asked the same question over and over again. I explained everything from start to finish.