June POV:
The sedation wavered. The room shifted. I was no longer pinned by ropes, but by regret.
I was Number Twelve. I was the girl who escaped alone because she was told to. Because he needed me to. Because he believed in me when I had nothing.
And I had forgotten.
I pressed my fingers against my temples. Images flickered:
My father's house at night—lights off, curtains drawn. I ran to the bus stop, the breath of winter scouring my lungs. A stranger gave me change for coffee. I stared at the coins, stunned—they were real. They weren't chips from a lab cafeteria.
I enrolled in school beside rich kids with gold cars and perfect hair. I sat alone, watching the world, so afraid if anyone asked who I was, I'd vanish again. But then I saw him—Justin—leaning against my locker, his dark hair flopping in his eyes. He smiled. Not a mocking grin. A real one. Like I was someone he'd been waiting for.
That memory glowed bright.
