Chapter 2
Everything felt… wrong.
Caitlyn breathed slowly, each inhale dragging through her ribs like broken glass. Her mind drifted between fog and moments of sharp clarity—but none of it made sense. Voices echoed around her, too distant, too unfamiliar. Faces blurred in the light.
Except his.
Her father’s voice cracked through the haze, trembling. "You’re safe now, Caitlyn."
Safe.
The word felt foreign. Nothing about this body—this moment—felt safe. Pain pulsed deep in her side, wrapping around her like a vice. She could feel her heartbeat—erratic, frantic—beneath the bandages.
And then there was her.
That woman—eyes red-rimmed, voice breaking every time she spoke. There was a kindness in her voice… something Caitlyn couldn’t name.
"I’m… Vi," she had said.
Caitlyn didn’t know her. She was sure of that. And yet… something in her chest ached when she looked at her—something she didn’t understand.
"What… happened?" Caitlyn forced the words out, her throat dry and raw.
Tobias swallowed hard. "There was a battle… you were hurt."
Caitlyn nodded once, processing. She could feel it—her body broken beneath layers of bandages. Every breath made her ribs scream. Her side burned like it was still bleeding.
She tried to think. Tried to remember. But it was all… blank.
Her hand drifted upward—slow, trembling. She needed to know. Needed something solid to hold onto. Her fingers brushed the thick bandages wrapping the left side of her face.
She stilled.
Panic clawed at her throat, but she forced it down. Stay calm, she told herself.
"What… is this?" she asked, her voice calm but laced with something brittle.
No one answered. She could feel the shift in the room—the way their bodies tensed, the air thickening.
"Tell me," she pressed, needing the truth, needing something real.
Tobias’s voice broke. "Your eye… it’s gone, injured during the battle, Caitlyn."
Gone.
The word echoed through her like a bullet.
Her stomach turned, but she kept her face steady. She blinked slowly, processing. "How?"
"You fought Ambessa… you won. But it… cost you."
Her mind spun. Images flickered—none clear. She couldn’t even recall the fight. What kind of victory was that if she couldn’t remember earning it?
"I don’t remember," Caitlyn whispered, and the words tasted like failure. "I don’t remember any of it."
She could feel Vi’s gaze—heavy, full of something Caitlyn couldn’t bear to name.
"You’re alive. That’s what matters," Vi whispered.
Caitlyn almost laughed. Alive. Was this what survival felt like? Half-remembered faces, searing pain, and a missing eye?
Her fingers trembled as they moved down—pressing weakly against her side. Wet. Warm.
Blood.
A soft gasp left her lips. "Why… why am I still bleeding?"
Tobias was there in an instant. "You reopened the wound—just breathing too hard is enough."
Caitlyn swallowed hard. She could feel it now—the way the pain deepened, how her body screamed for rest she couldn’t find.
"I’m an Enforcer. I'm a shooter," she murmured, her voice breaking for the first time. "I was… a shooter."
The loss wasn’t just her eye. It was everything she had ever been.
Vi’s hand covered hers—warm, grounding. "You still are. We’ll fix this."
But Caitlyn didn’t believe it.
Caitlyn felt the weight of the room pressing down on her—heavy, suffocating, almost unbearable. It wasn’t the pain—though it was there, sharp and constant—it was the silence, the looks she caught when she dared to glance up. Every breath felt stolen, fragile. Every glance toward her was filled with something she couldn’t name… pity, grief… love, maybe.
And yet, none of it felt like it belonged to her.
She wanted to ask. Needed to. But the words caught in her throat, strangled by fear she couldn’t admit.
It was Tobias who found his voice first, though even he sounded broken. "Caitlyn… can you… tell us what you remember?"
The question rang out too loud. Unforgiving. It echoed in her chest like a warning.
Caitlyn blinked slowly, as if the simple act of remembering took more effort than she could spare. Her mind was a vast, empty field—so much blank space where there should’ve been memories. She searched, clawing through the fog until her heart ached with the effort.
"I…" she swallowed thickly, her voice barely audible. "It’s… fragmented. Blurry."
Vi moved closer, desperation flashing like lightning in her red-rimmed eyes. There was hope there, but it looked fragile—like it might shatter at any moment. "That’s okay. Just… anything. What’s the last thing you remember?"
Caitlyn’s brows furrowed, her chest tightening. She pushed through the fog, past the dull throb of her injuries, past the way every nerve felt like it was screaming. And then—there it was. Small. Distant. But solid.
"I was on my way to Stillwater," she whispered. The words tasted old. " To question a prisoner."
She heard the way the air shifted. The sharp, strangled sound Tobias made—half a breath, half a sob. Vi staggered back, breath caught like someone had punched the air out of her lungs.
Caitlyn’s gaze drifted between them, confusion flickering in her lone, glassy eye. "Why… does that matter?"
Vi shook her head, tears slipping past the fragile dam she tried to hold. "Cait… that was… that was a long time ago."
Caitlyn’s stomach twisted. "What?" The word came out sharper than she meant, fear threading through it. She tried to sit up, instinct taking over—but her body screamed in protest, white-hot pain radiating through her side. "It… it felt like yesterday."
Tobias forced his voice to steady, but she could see the tremble in his shoulders. "You’ve… you’ve lived through so much since then, Caitlyn. You just… don’t remember."
His words crashed into her like a wave, pulling her under.
Caitlyn stared down at her hands, bloodless and trembling. "Then… that’s why I don’t know you." Her voice softened, cracking at the edges, almost apologetic as she turned to Vi. "I… we didn’t meet yet, did we?"
Vi wiped at her face with shaking hands, a bitter, broken laugh slipping free. "No… not yet."
Caitlyn swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "I’m sorry," she whispered, barely able to meet Vi’s eyes. "You… you seem important. I just… I can’t find you in my head."
Vi made a sound then—half sob, half laugh—and it nearly broke Caitlyn’s fragile composure. "It’s okay," Vi whispered back, her voice shaking but full of a tenderness that Caitlyn didn’t understand. "I’ll find you… until you can."
Caitlyn’s throat burned as she nodded weakly, every muscle trembling with the effort. She couldn’t understand why Vi’s words felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Why did it hurt… to not remember someone she didn’t know?
Her hand drifted again, almost on its own, tracing the bandages over her eye. The loss gnawed at her, the absence of vision on that side clawing at the edges of her mind.
"I want to remember," she breathed, voice raw.
Vi’s sob tore through the quiet, her hand reaching for Caitlyn’s with a desperation Caitlyn felt but couldn’t name. "You will. I’ll remind you every day."
Caitlyn’s body trembled, her strength fading, exhaustion dragging her down like a heavy stone. The monitor screamed louder now, the beeping shrill, echoing the panic buried deep beneath her skin.
"She’s bleeding again," Tobias rasped, voice tight with fear. "Nurse!"
The edges of Caitlyn’s vision darkened, the world slipping away. Yet… her gaze found Vi one last time. There was no anger there. Only a distant, aching kind of sadness.
"Stay…." Her voice cracked. Not a demand—just a quiet, hopeless plea.
Vi choked back a sob, nodding fiercely. "Always," she promised.
And as the sedative took hold, Caitlyn’s body sagged into the bed. Her world faded to black.
The last thing she felt wasn’t the pain… it was Vi’s hand wrapped around hers, trembling, refusing to let go.
The only sound left was the monitor… and the quiet sob of a love Caitlyn no longer remembered… waiting.
The door hadn’t even closed when Vi crumbled.
She slid down the wall, knees hitting the cold tile as her breath tore from her chest, jagged and broken. Her hands shook as she pressed them against her face.
She’d held it together. For Caitlyn. For that fragile moment where Caitlyn had looked at her—not with hate, not with fear—but like a stranger staring at someone she should know but couldn’t.
And now… now there was nothing left to hold.
"She doesn’t remember me," Vi gasped, the words barely making it past her lips. "She… she doesn’t remember anything."
Tobias stood frozen in the center of the room, his back rigid, shoulders squared like a soldier awaiting the final blow. But there was no fight left in him. Only grief.
He turned slowly, his eyes red-rimmed but dry. "She remembers Stillwater," he whispered. "That was before… before any of this."
Vi nodded numbly, her fists curling against the floor. "She was so calm… so distant. Like I was just… no one."
Tobias looked away, jaw tight. "How do we tell her?" he asked, more to the empty air than to Vi. "How do we… tell her about Cassandra? About Jayce? The war? Maddie?"
Vi’s breath caught, another sob breaking free. "I don’t know."
The weight of it was too much—too vast to name.
Cassandra was gone. Blown apart by Jinx’s attack on the Council.
Jayce… missing. No body. No goodbye. Just gone, leaving behind only rumors and broken hopes.
Zaun and Piltover were both bleeding, the war scarring them deeper than anyone dared admit.
And Maddie—Caitlyn’s most trusted enforcer—had sold her out. Delivered her straight into the hands of the enemy.
"We’re going to break her," Vi whispered, voice hollow. "The second she knows… we’ll lose her all over again."
Tobias didn’t argue. Couldn’t.
He sat heavily in the nearest chair, hands shaking as he wiped his face. "She thinks her mother’s alive." His voice cracked. "Do you know what that means? How… how do I take that from her again?"
Vi said nothing. There was nothing left to say.
They sat like that—broken pieces of a family, surrounded by the ghosts of everything they’d lost.
And somewhere down the hall, the monitor beeped steady and slow—marking the breaths of a girl who had no idea her world was already gone.
The room smelled of antiseptic and fading grief—like sorrow had seeped so deep into the walls that nothing could scrub it clean. It clung to the air, to the bedsheets, to Caitlyn’s skin.
It was the first thing she noticed as consciousness clawed its way back to her. Not the dull, gnawing ache in her side or the raw throb behind her temple—but the staleness of grief.
And then came the sound—small, fragile, barely there. Breathing. Shaky, uneven, like someone fighting to stay afloat in a sea that kept pulling them under.
Caitlyn forced her eye open.
The world swam, blurred at the edges until, slowly, it sharpened. And there she was—Vi—slouched forward, her elbows digging into her knees, her head bowed.
The sight made Caitlyn pause. Something deep in her chest twisted, something primal, something that didn’t belong to her memories—because those were gone—but lived somewhere else entirely. In muscle. In bone.
Vi looked… wrecked. Her face pale, lips trembling, shoulders hunched like she carried a mountain’s weight. There was no strength left in her—just the brittle shell of someone who had held on too long.
Caitlyn’s throat burned as she spoke, her voice little more than a whisper. "You’re still here."
Vi’s head snapped up so fast it startled Caitlyn. Their eyes met, and for a heartbeat, Caitlyn saw everything Vi had tried to hide—terror, grief, love.
"Cait… you’re awake." Vi’s voice cracked like glass under pressure.
"Yeah," Caitlyn breathed, and it felt like speaking broke something inside her. "I am."
The silence that followed wasn’t peaceful. It was suffocating. It pressed down on Caitlyn’s ribs, made breathing harder.
Vi’s hands trembled where they rested on her knees. Caitlyn couldn’t stop staring—reading every line of Vi’s face, every tremble, every ragged breath.
"I thought… I’d dreamt you," Caitlyn murmured. "Or maybe you weren’t real at all."
Vi gave a broken, fragile smile. "No… I’m here."
But something in Caitlyn rebelled at those words. Her gut twisted, her instincts screamed. No. Something was wrong.
"You’ve been here… the whole time?" Caitlyn’s voice was soft, careful.
Vi nodded, her throat working as she swallowed back whatever words almost followed. "Yeah. I wasn’t… I couldn’t leave."
Caitlyn watched her for a long moment. Measured. Thoughtful. "Why?"
Vi blinked, caught off guard. "Because… because we worked together. Cases. We… teamed up before."
The words came too fast. Too rehearsed.
Caitlyn’s eye narrowed, her composure like ice—calm, measured, dangerous. "I see."
She let the words hang, but her mind was already moving—piecing things together, following the threads Vi desperately tried to fray.
"We were… just partners then?" Her voice stayed light, almost curious.
Vi nodded quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. Just… partners."
"Interesting," Caitlyn murmured, and this time there was no mistaking the shift—the subtle hardening of her gaze. "Because you called me Cait earlier."
Vi froze. "I…"
"That’s not a partner’s name," Caitlyn continued, her voice still soft but now laced with something sharper. "That’s… intimate. Familiar. You don’t call someone Cait unless you know them well."
Vi’s hands curled into fists, knuckles white. She said nothing.
"You keep looking at me," Caitlyn pressed, "like you’re waiting for me to remember something I can’t. Like you already know the ending… and you hate yourself for it."
Vi’s breath stuttered, shoulders trembling. "Cait, please—"
"No," Caitlyn whispered, but there was steel beneath it. "You don’t get to brush me off with half-truths. Not when everything inside me is screaming that you’re lying."
Vi’s lips trembled, a broken sound escaping her. "I’m trying to protect you."
"From what?" Caitlyn asked, softer now. Guarded. "From the past? From us?"
Vi broke. "You’re too smart for this, Cait."
Caitlyn almost smiled, but it was a bitter thing. "I know. So stop insulting me."
The words hung there like a blade.
Vi crumbled, the dam breaking. "We… we weren’t just partners. I lied. I’m sorry."
Caitlyn didn’t flinch. She only blinked, once. "I know."
"We… we had feelings," Vi choked. "Real ones. Still do."
The air left Caitlyn’s lungs in one slow, shuddering breath. "I don’t remember," she whispered. "But… I believe you."
Vi sobbed, covering her face. "Too much happened. Too much was lost. And now… now you look at me and I’m a stranger."
"You’re not," Caitlyn whispered. "I… I don’t know how… but you’re not."
Vi let out a bitter laugh. "Then why does it feel like I already lost you?"
Caitlyn’s eye glistened. "Because… maybe you did. Maybe we both lost something we’ll never get back."
They sat in that silence, grief pressing down like a storm.
Caitlyn’s throat tightened, but she forced her voice steady. " So you called me Cait because you knew me. Not because we were just… partners."
Vi wiped her face with a trembling hand, staring down at her lap. "I didn’t know what else to do, Cait. I thought… maybe if I left it buried, it’d hurt less."
Caitlyn exhaled slowly, her lone eye never leaving Vi. "It doesn’t. It hurts anyway."
Vi nodded, shoulders slumped in defeat. "I know."
The silence pressed down again, but this time, Caitlyn didn’t look away. She held Vi in her gaze, steady and unyielding.
"Don’t lie to me again," Caitlyn whispered. "If there’s more… I’ll find it. I always do."
Vi gave the faintest nod, voice barely carrying. "Alright… no more lies."
Caitlyn finally allowed herself to lean back against the pillows, the exhaustion pulling at every frayed edge of her being. "Good," she murmured, eyes fluttering closed. "Because I don’t have it in me… to survive another lie."
And for a moment, there was nothing left but the sound of the monitor and the weight of everything unspoken, hanging heavy between them.
The door creaked open, a sound too loud against the suffocating silence that had settled over the room like a funeral shroud.
Caitlyn’s lone eye shifted, weary and sharp despite the haze of pain. Two figures entered—her father, Tobias, his face gaunt and grey, and a physician she did not know. Both wore expressions like men walking toward a gallows.
The doctor cleared his throat, but his voice remained soft, measured, almost afraid. "Commander… we need to speak about your condition."
That word—Commander—hung in the air, foreign and heavy.
Caitlyn blinked slowly, her throat tightening. "Commander?" she echoed, voice hoarse. "Why did you call me that?"
The doctor faltered. Tobias paled. Vi, in the corner, stiffened but said nothing.
"Caitlyn," Tobias began, his voice barely holding steady, "you’ve… you’ve risen through the ranks. You’re… Commander of the Enforcers now."
A hollow laugh, bitter and dry, slipped past Caitlyn’s lips. "I was barely an enforcer.That’s the last thing I remember. How… how could I be Commander?"
Tobias swallowed hard, gaze dropping. "A lot has changed, Cait… more than you can fathom right now."
The doctor interjected gently. "There’s… much you’ve lost. Let us explain… what happened."
Caitlyn said nothing. She simply nodded, her fingers curling weakly into the sheets, bracing herself for the impact.
"You sustained a stab wound to your right side," the doctor began, his tone clinical but heavy with unspoken sorrow. "Deep enough that… you almost didn’t survive."
Caitlyn’s breath caught, but she forced herself to remain still, jaw tight as his words tore through the fog.
"Multiple fractured ribs," the doctor continued. "Severe bruising… lacerations scattered across your body. You were barely alive when they brought you in."
Tobias let out a shuddering breath, unable to meet her gaze.
The doctor paused, the next words heavier still. "Your left eye… was lost. The damage… irreparable. We… had no choice."
Caitlyn’s trembling fingers rose, almost of their own accord, trailing over the heavy bandages that concealed the hollow where her eye should have been.
"And your head," the doctor pressed on carefully. "You suffered a severe concussion. You’ve been unconscious for days ."
"The memory loss," Caitlyn rasped, her voice stripped of everything but raw understanding. "It’s from that, isn’t it?"
The doctor nodded, his gaze softening. "Retrograde amnesia. We don’t know the extent… or if you’ll regain what’s lost."
Silence fell—thick, suffocating.
"I… I feel like a stranger to myself," Caitlyn whispered, staring down at her trembling hands.
Vi made a sound—a quiet, pained exhale—but didn’t speak.
Tobias stepped closer, his eyes glistening. "Caitlyn… you’re still my daughter. No matter what’s gone… you’re still you."
Caitlyn didn’t answer. She couldn’t.
Instead, her gaze flicked back to the doctor. "Tell me… is there anything else?"
The doctor hesitated, glancing at Tobias, then Vi. Finally, he sighed, heavy with unspoken truths. "Yes. But not now."
Caitlyn’s lone eye sharpened. "Why?"
"Too soon," the doctor confessed. "Your body is fighting to survive… your mind… frayed at the edges. If we tell you everything now, it might break you before you’re ready to carry it."
Vi flinched, guilt etched into every line of her face. Tobias paled, nodding slowly.
"We’ll wait," Tobias whispered. "Until you’re strong enough."
Caitlyn laughed again—a hollow, empty sound. "You think I don’t already know? I see it in your eyes. Whatever you’re hiding… it’s worse than this."
Vi’s throat worked, but she remained silent.
The doctor laid a gentle hand on Tobias’s arm. "Prepare her slowly. One truth at a time. Any more than that… and it will be too much for her."
Caitlyn said nothing else. She turned her face away, staring into the void where the wall blurred and the ceiling bled light.
Lost. Entirely, completely lost.
And as they left her there, hovering between what little she remembered and the gaping abyss of what had been stolen, Caitlyn wondered if she’d ever find her way back.
Or if there was even a self left to return to.
The door had barely clicked shut before Vi exhaled shakily, hands trembling where they clutched the edge of the chair like it was the only thing anchoring her to the earth. The doctor's words still rang loud in her head—“One truth at a time.”
But how did you choose which truth to give… when everything you were had already been ripped away from the person you loved?
Caitlyn lay so still, turned toward the window, her face half bathed in weak light. It made her look ethereal—unreachable. Like someone Vi had already lost.
"Cait…" Vi’s voice cracked, nearly swallowed by the oppressive quiet pressing down on them.
No response. Not even a flicker of recognition.
Vi forced herself to keep speaking, voice trembling. "I know you’re angry. And confused. And—" she choked, breath hitching, "God, I don’t blame you."
Still, Caitlyn didn’t move, her body frail beneath the thin hospital sheets. Only the faint rise and fall of her chest proved she was still there. Still breathing.
"They told me not to push you," Vi whispered, leaning forward, her elbows digging into her knees as though the weight of it all might snap her spine. "But I can’t sit here and pretend like you’re not… right there. Flesh and blood. Alive. And still somehow… further away from me than you’ve ever been."
For the briefest moment, Caitlyn’s eye twitched. A flicker. Enough.
Encouraged, Vi swallowed hard. "You don’t remember me," she said, softer now, every word carved out of grief. "I see that. Every time you look at me… like you’re trying to figure out why I’m breaking just sitting here."
A sharp breath escaped Caitlyn, silent but real. Vi heard it, felt it, like a knife twisting.
"I should’ve protected you," Vi confessed, voice breaking. "I should’ve kept you from ever ending up in that damn bed. But I didn’t. And now…" She trailed off, swallowing a sob. "Now you’re here."
Caitlyn’s body remained still, but Vi felt her listening—somewhere deep beneath the cold, guarded surface.
"I wish…" Vi’s hands trembled. "I wish I could tell you everything. How we met. What we meant. But… they’re right. You’re barely holding on. And if I give you all that weight now… it might break you."
Caitlyn turned her head then, slowly, painfully. Her lone eye locked onto Vi. "Then why… are you still here?" Her voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.
Vi’s breath caught, her chest tightening. "Because I don’t know how to leave you."
Their gazes held. And for the first time, Caitlyn didn’t pull away.
"We’ll take it slow," Vi promised, forcing the words through the lump in her throat. "I’ll… I’ll remind you. Not everything. Not yet. But maybe… just enough to not feel like strangers."
Caitlyn’s throat worked, her lips trembling. "I hate this," she confessed, her voice a fragile, breaking thing. "This feeling… like I’m drowning in someone else’s life. Like none of this belongs to me."
Vi bit down hard on her lip until she tasted blood. "Then let me be the one… to pull you out."
The words hung there between them—desperate, soft, raw.
For a moment, Caitlyn just stared at Vi, her eye glassy, unreadable. Then, slowly, almost reluctantly, she spoke. "You say that… but you look at me like you’ve already lost me."
Vi blinked back tears. "Because I have. In a way."
Caitlyn closed her eye, drawing in a shaky breath. "Vi… I… I need to ask you something."
"Anything," Vi rasped.
There was a long pause—so long Vi thought maybe Caitlyn had fallen asleep. But then—
"I need… to be alone," Caitlyn whispered.
Vi froze, the words hitting like a physical blow. "Cait… no. I—"
"Please," Caitlyn forced out "I need… I need space. I can’t breathe with you here. Not because of you… but because of everything I don’t remember."
Vi’s jaw trembled. "Caitlyn, - .."
"Please," Caitlyn whispered again.
Silence. Only the sound of Vi’s shaky breathing.
Finally, Vi nodded, though it nearly destroyed her. "Okay… okay, Cait. I’ll… I’ll give you that."
She stood slowly, every movement heavy, like her body no longer wanted to move without Caitlyn’s gravity. "I’m not… I’m not leaving for good. I’ll be right outside. Always."
Caitlyn didn’t respond. She just turned her face back toward the window, her body still trembling from the effort of keeping it together.
Vi lingered a second longer, burning the image of her into memory—the rise and fall of her breath, the faint shimmer of light catching in her hair.
Then she left. Quietly. Carefully.
And as the door clicked shut, Caitlyn finally let a single tear fall—silent, unseen.
The air in the hallway was suffocating, thick with grief neither of them dared name.
Vi stood against the wall, arms crossed tightly over her chest like she could hold herself together through sheer will. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d truly breathed—really breathed—since the moment Caitlyn’s eyes fluttered open and held nothing of the girl she’d known.
Tobias was no better. Shoulders hunched, jaw clenched, he looked years older than the man Vi had known—a father weighed down by the impossible.
"Tobias…" Vi’s voice cracked as it broke the silence. "Maybe… maybe it’s time we tell her."
He turned slowly, his eyes dull with exhaustion. "Vi…"
"She’s too smart," Vi pushed on, voice trembling. "You know it. Every second we stall, she’s watching us. She’ll figure it out… and it’ll be worse if she finds out from anyone but us."
Tobias gave a bitter laugh, but there was no humor left in him. "And what then, huh? You think she’ll forgive you? When she hears… it was your sister?"
Vi swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "No," she whispered. "She won’t. She’ll hate me. But I’d rather that than watch her drown in this… this not knowing."
"She’ll hate you."
"So be it," Vi rasped. "At least she’ll know the truth."
Before Tobias could respond, a sound—a sharp scrape, a choked breath—cut through the air.
Vi’s heart stuttered. "Caitlyn."
They rushed toward the door, and what they found made Vi’s stomach twist into something she couldn’t name.
Caitlyn stood in the center of the room—barely. Pale, trembling, her face slick with cold sweat. One hand gripped the IV pole like a lifeline, the other hanging limp and bloodied where the line had been torn free. Blood streaked down her arm, bright against the pallor of her skin.
Her lone eye found Tobias first—cold, calculating, devoid of the warmth she once held.
"Caitlyn—" Tobias’s voice faltered, the air gone from his lungs. "What… what are you doing?"
Caitlyn didn’t blink. Her voice was low, flat, terrifyingly calm. "I’m done waiting for you to tell me the truth."
Tobias took a half-step forward, but Caitlyn’s eye flashed.
"I’m looking for the answers you’re too afraid to give me."
Vi’s breath caught. "Cait—no. Please… you’re not strong enough. Sit down. Please."
Caitlyn glanced at her, and for a moment, there was something softer there—but it vanished, swallowed by the storm. "I can’t. I can’t sit here another second wondering if the only thing holding me together is a lie you’re too scared to tell."
Tobias’s hands trembled. "Caitlyn, my daughter… you’re going to hurt yourself—"
"I’m already hurt," Caitlyn whispered, so quietly it felt like a confession. "Do you think I don’t know? Every breath feels like a reminder of what I’ve lost. But worse… is what I don’t know."
Vi took another careful step, swallowing the sob clawing its way up. "Please… Cait. Please, just sit. Let me explain. You’re not thinking straight."
Caitlyn’s gaze sharpened. "I’m thinking clearer than either of you." She turned to her father, her voice trembling but steady. "You’re hiding something from me. I see it… every time you look away. Every time you flinch. I’m not a child."
"We’re trying to protect you," Tobias whispered. "You don’t understand—"
"Then help me understand," Caitlyn said. "Because I won’t survive another day like this. I’d rather look for answers than sit here like a prisoner."
She took a step—small, painful—but she took it.
Vi surged forward, hands out. "Cait—please. Stop. You’re bleeding. You’re scaring me."
Caitlyn faltered, but she didn’t fall. "Then tell me. Tell me what happened to my mother. Where is she ? "
The words were soft… but they hit like a hammer.
Tobias staggered, breath knocked out of him.
"Caitlyn…"
"Tell me," Caitlyn repeated, the tremble in her voice betraying the tears she refused to shed. "Or I walk out that door and find someone who will."
Vi’s breath hitched. "Cait… please—"
"Nurse!" Tobias’s voice cracked as he turned toward the door. "Get in here. Now. Bring the sedative—"
"No!" Caitlyn gasped, staggering back. "Don’t you dare—"
She barely saw Vi move. Arms wrapped around her before she hit the ground, pulling her close.
"I’m sorry, Cait… I’m so sorry," Vi whispered, voice breaking. "I can’t let you do this to yourself."
The nurse slipped the needle into her arm before anyone could stop it.
Caitlyn’s breathing slowed, her head lolling forward until all that was left was her whisper. "I just… wanted to know."
And then she was gone—dragged under, leaving Vi clutching her like a lifeline she couldn’t hold.
Tobias turned away, shoulders shaking. "She’ll hate us for this."
Vi nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I know. But next time… next time, we tell her everything."
The room fell silent, save for the steady beep of machines—mocking, relentless.
And in that moment, they both knew the damage was done.
Vi didn’t remember leaving Caitlyn’s room.
Her body moved on instinct—numb, directionless—until she found herself outside, where the air was no less suffocating. She leaned against the cold stone wall, staring out at a city she no longer recognized.
And then it broke—everything she’d been holding back.
Vi buried her face in her hands as the first sob tore free.
"Vi?"
Ekko’s voice was soft, but Vi didn’t look up. She couldn’t.
"Vi… what happened?"
Vi let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. "She’s looking for answers, Ekko. And when she finds them…" Her voice cracked. "When she finds out it was Jinx… my sister… who killed her mother—"
She broke, pressing her fist against her mouth to stop the sob that clawed its way up. "She’ll hate me. She’ll hate me so much, Ekko."
Ekko crouched beside her, his expression softening. "That’s not on you, Vi."
"Isn’t it?" Vi whispered. "I brought her into this. I made her trust me. And now… she doesn’t even know who I am. And when she remembers… it’ll just be the worst parts."
She laughed bitterly, tears streaming down her face. "I keep thinking… maybe it’d be better if she never remembered me. If she never knew what she lost because of me."
Ekko’s voice was firm, steady. "You don’t mean that."
"I do," Vi choked. "Because if I have to watch her look at me like I’m the reason everything she loved burned… I won’t survive it."
Ekko placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Then you fight, Vi. You stay. You give her the truth… all of it. And you let her decide."
Vi shook her head, voice breaking. "I’m scared, Ekko. I’m so goddamn scared."
" If anyone’s strong enough to survive this… it’s Caitlyn. And you."
Vi stared at the ground, broken. "I’m not sure I am anymore."
But deep down, she knew Ekko was right.
The truth was coming. And it would destroy whatever pieces of them were left.
But she owed Caitlyn that much.
Even if it meant losing her