Anna lived above a bakery.
Jessie found that irritating.
Not because there was anything wrong with bakeries, but because after kidnappings, secret criminal organizations, psychological manipulation, forgotten murders and twenty-four-year-old cassette recordings, she’d expected Candidate One to live somewhere appropriately sinister. An isolated farmhouse would have worked. A fortified apartment. Maybe a cabin at the end of a road where GPS gave up and wolves handled security.
Instead, Nathan’s address led them to a narrow three-storey building on a busy street. The ground floor housed a bakery with yellow curtains and a handwritten sign promising fresh cinnamon buns. Apartments occupied the two floors above it.
Jessie stared through the windshield.
Gabriel looked at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re disappointed.”
“I am not disappointed.”
“You wanted a bunker.”
“I would have respected a bunker.”
Gabriel smiled. “She’s been hiding for twenty-four years. Maybe hiding somewhere completely ordinary is the point.”
Jessie glanced at him.
“That was annoyingly insightful.”
“I’ve been having a very good week.”
“You’ve been kidnapped-adjacent, confessed to decades of lying and discovered a man you thought was dead is alive.”
“I didn’t say pleasant. I said good.”
Jessie looked back at the building.
It had been three days since St. Catherine’s.
Three very long days.
Emily had been reunited with Nathan at the hospital. Nathan had regained consciousness, but police had not yet allowed Jessie to speak with him. Mrs. Alvarez had returned home after declaring hospitals “places where perfectly healthy people go to become sick,” then delivered Jessie an entire loaf of banana bread out of spite.
It was, Jessie reluctantly admitted, pretty good. Dr. Vale remained in custody, the two men Emily described had not been found and Michael Mercer existed. Jessie had confirmed that much.
Daniel’s younger brother was fifty-two now. Public records showed a life that appeared aggressively ordinary: university, marriage, divorce, consulting work, several addresses and very little else. No criminal record Jessie could find. No obvious connection to Vale.
Nathan’s warning remained impossible to ignore.
DON’T TRUST MICHAEL MERCER.
Jessie hadn’t contacted him – yet. Anna came first. Police knew about Nathan’s note and the address. Jessie had spent enough hours answering questions over the previous three days to develop a new appreciation for criminals who simply confessed to everything immediately. But she had not confessed to everything.
Twenty-two years of professional theft couldn’t be unpacked in an afternoon, and Jessie wasn’t suicidal. But she’d told them about Vale, St. Catherine’s, Daniel, the organization and what she remembered from the night of the fire. She’d even told them she’d shot Daniel and that had been the hardest part.
The detective had stared at her for a long time before explaining that a twenty-four-year-old death, already officially attributed to the fire, would require investigation before anyone could determine what her recovered memories meant legally.
Jessie had nodded.
Consequences. She’d spent eleven months telling herself she was willing to accept them and apparently the universe had decided to check in. Now she and Gabriel sat outside a bakery waiting to meet a woman who might explain why half Jessie’s life suddenly seemed to have footnotes.
“You ready?” Gabriel asked.
“Absolutely not.”
He blinked. Jessie opened the car door and Gabriel followed her onto the sidewalk.
“You admitted you’re not ready.”
“Growth.”
“I don’t think that’s what growth means.”
“Neither do I.”
The bakery smelled incredible and Jessie hated that too. A young man behind the counter greeted them, and Jessie ordered coffee because walking into a bakery without buying anything felt suspicious. Gabriel bought two cinnamon rolls.
“You’re eating?”
“I cope through carbs.”
“Apparently.”
The apartment entrance was beside the bakery. Jessie climbed the stairs with Gabriel behind her until they reached the second floor. Apartment 204.
Jessie stopped. There were three locks on the door.
Better. She knocked, but there was nothing. So, she waited and knocked again. From inside, there was a woman’s voice.
“Who is it?”
Jessie looked at Gabriel. “Jessie Wilson.”
Silence – and not ordinary silence. It was more like recognition. Jessie could feel it through the door.
Then the woman said, “Go away.”
Gabriel took a bite of cinnamon roll. Jessie glanced at him.
“What?”
“You brought food to a potentially hostile encounter.”
He swallowed. “Would you prefer I brought a gun?”
“Fair point.”
Jessie turned back toward the door. “Anna?”
“I said go away.”
“Nathan Carter sent me.” Another silence. Jessie waited. Then the locks began turning.
One.
Two.
Three.
The door opened approximately four inches, stopped by a security chain. A woman looked through the gap. She was perhaps sixty. Silver strands laced through the dark hair that framed her jawline. She wore no makeup, leaving her brown eyes and the fine scar cutting through her left eyebrow completely exposed.
Jessie immediately noticed the way she stood. It was balanced. Her weight was distributed evenly. No fear, just ready for what might be next.
Anna studied Jessie just as carefully. Her gaze moved over Jessie’s face, hands, shoulders and shoes before returning to her eyes.
Jessie almost smiled.
There you are.
Anna’s expression changed.
“You look like him.”
Jessie’s stomach tightened. “Who?”
“Daniel.” That wasn’t what she’d expected.
“I don’t.”
“Not physically.” Anna closed the door and Jessie heard the chain being removed. When the door reopened, Anna stepped aside.
“Five minutes.”
Gabriel entered behind Jessie. Anna looked at him. “No.”
Gabriel stopped. “Excuse me?”
“You stay outside.”
“I’m with Jessie.”
“I know exactly who you are.”
Gabriel’s expression changed. Jessie looked between them. “You’ve met.”
Anna stared at Gabriel. “Once.”
Gabriel shook his head. “I’ve never met you.”
Anna smiled without warmth. “Yes, you have.”
Jessie became very interested. “When?”
Anna looked at Jessie. “You should ask him.”
“I just did.”
Gabriel frowned. “I genuinely don’t remember you.”
“I know.”
Something about the way Anna said it made Jessie uncomfortable. Gabriel heard it too.
“What does that mean?”
Anna closed the door in his face. Jessie stared at it, then at Anna.
“I like you already.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No. Probably not.”
Anna walked into the apartment and Jessie followed her. The place was immaculate but not sterile. Bookshelves covered one wall. Plants crowded the windows. A half-finished puzzle occupied the dining table.
Normal, painfully normal. But Jessie understood immediately. Anna had built herself a life just like Jessie had tried to.
“Sit.”
Jessie remained standing. Anna looked at her.
Jessie sat.
Apparently Candidate One still had some authority issues.
Anna sat across from her. For several seconds, the women studied each other.
“You’re older than I expected,” Jessie said.
Anna raised an eyebrow.
“That sounded better in my head.”
“I was sixteen in 1979.”
Jessie calculated. “You’re sixty-three.”
“Excellent. Vale taught you math.”
Jessie smiled despite herself. “Daniel said you were Candidate One.”
Anna’s expression changed. “Daniel shouldn’t have called me that.”
“He didn’t. Vale did.”
Anna looked away and Jessie noticed her right hand had closed around her left wrist.
A self-soothing gesture. The first crack.
“You knew Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“You helped him.”
“Yes.”
“You warned him to get me away from Vale.”
Anna looked back at her. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’d seen what Vale did to people.”
Jessie leaned forward. “What did he do?”
Anna studied her. “What do you remember?”
“Enough.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Jessie almost laughed. “You really are one of us.”
Anna’s expression hardened. “There is no us.”
Jessie stopped.
“Vale invented that. Candidates. Subjects. Successes. Failures. He wanted us to believe we belonged to a category only he understood.”
Jessie nodded slowly. “Daniel said something similar.”
“Daniel understood eventually.”
“Eventually?”
Anna’s tone changed. “Daniel wasn’t always trying to stop Vale.”
Jessie’s body went still. “What?”
Anna looked toward the window.
“There’s your first problem.”
“What problem?”
“You think Daniel was the good man and Vale was the monster.”
Jessie’s voice cooled.
“Daniel helped kids.”
“Yes.”
“He tried to expose the organization.”
“Eventually.”
There was that word again. Jessie leaned back.
“What aren’t I remembering?”
“A great deal.”
“Then help.”
Anna laughed quietly.
“You really don’t remember me.”
Jessie’s stomach tightened.
“We’ve met.”
Anna looked directly at her.
“Many times.”
Jessie said nothing.
“You used to hate me.”
“That feels rude.”
“You tried to break my nose.”
Jessie considered it.
“Did I succeed?”
Anna stared.
“Apparently not.”
“Then I wasn’t trying very hard.”
For the first time, Anna smiled but it disappeared quickly. “You were nineteen. Vale had been training you for months. You thought I was trying to sabotage you.”
“Were you?”
“Yes.”
Jessie blinked. “Okay.”
“I was trying to make you fail.”
“Why?”
“Because failure meant he’d lose interest.”
Jessie understood. “You were protecting me.”
“I was trying.”
“By making me hate you.”
“That part wasn’t difficult.”
Jessie looked down at her hands. Another memory flickered.
A hallway.
A dark-haired woman.
Jessie was furious.
You think you’re better than me.
The woman answering: No. I think you’re becoming him.
Jessie inhaled. “Jesus.”
Anna watched her. “You remember something.”
“You told me I was becoming Vale.”
“Yes.”
“I tried to hit you.”
“Yes.”
“Still sorry about the nose.”
“You missed.”
“Apparently.”
Jessie rubbed her forehead. “Why don’t I remember you?”
Anna’s face became unreadable. “Because you asked not to.”
“Gabriel said I asked to forget Daniel.”
“No.”
Jessie looked up and Anna held her gaze. “You asked to forget all of us.”
Something shifted inside Jessie. “Why?”
Anna didn’t answer.
“Why?”
“Because Daniel was dead.”
Jessie waited. “That isn’t enough.”
“No.”
“Then tell me.”
Anna stood and walked toward the window. “You’re asking the wrong question.”
“I’ve apparently spent twenty-four years doing that.”
“You keep asking what Vale did to you.”
“Seems reasonable.”
“You should be asking what you did to Vale.”
Jessie felt cold. “I shot Daniel.”
“This isn’t about Daniel.”
“What did I do?”
Anna turned around. “You destroyed his work.”
Jessie frowned. “The files?”
“Not files.”
“Then what?”
Anna looked at her. “The candidates.”
Jessie didn’t understand. Anna continued. “Vale wasn’t trying to create criminals. The organization already had criminals. They didn’t need him for that.”
“Then what was he doing?”
“He was studying loyalty.”
Jessie stared.
Anna returned to the table.
“More specifically, whether loyalty could be manufactured.”
The words settled heavily between them.
“Vale believed people could be conditioned to choose an assigned person or group over everything else. Family. Morality. Self-preservation. Even identity.”
Jessie remembered Vale’s language.
Proof.
Not experiment.
“Candidates were paired?”
“Sometimes.”
“With who?”
“Different people. Handlers. Partners. Targets. Other candidates.”
Jessie’s stomach tightened. “What was I?”
Anna looked at her. The final test.” Jessie went still.
Anna continued. “Vale had spent years trying to manufacture loyalty. Fear worked temporarily. Money worked until somebody offered more. Dependency worked until people escaped. Trauma bonds were unpredictable. He wanted something stronger.”
“Love.”
Anna nodded.
Jessie’s chest tightened. “Daniel.”
“Yes.”
Jessie stood. “No.”
“Jessie—”
“Daniel wasn’t part of Vale’s experiment.”
“Not knowingly.” She stopped.
Anna’s voice softened. “Vale didn’t create your relationship with Daniel. That’s why it mattered.”
Jessie looked at her. “He watched it happen. Daniel was supposed to be investigating you while pretending to help the organization. Vale knew Daniel cared about you before Daniel admitted it to himself.”
Jessie felt sick. “So he used us.”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“To answer a question.”
Jessie’s voice became barely audible. “What question?”
Anna held her gaze. “Whether he could make you choose him over Daniel.”
Jessie stopped breathing. “He failed.”
“Yes.”
The relief came too quickly because Anna wasn’t finished. “He failed because you did something he hadn’t predicted.”
Jessie waited.
“You chose Daniel.”
“That seems predictable.”
“Not after Daniel died.”
Jessie’s brow furrowed.
Anna leaned forward.
“You chose everyone else.”
Jessie didn’t understand. Then she remembered Daniel’s recording.
Names.
Candidates.
People disappearing.
“What did I do?” Anna’s eyes filled with something Jessie hadn’t expected.
Pride.
“You got us out.”
Jessie stared at her.
“All of us.”
The room disappeared as a memory broke through.
Jessie running through rain.
A car.
Someone bleeding in the back seat.
Gabriel shouting.
Another vehicle behind them.
A girl crying.
Jessie saying, Keep driving.
Another memory.
Jessie was standing in a motel room with four frightened people.
Money spread across a bed.
Passports. Names. Instructions. Another.
Jessie was looking at Anna.
If they find you, run.
Anna answering: What about you?
Jessie: I’ll make sure they’re looking at me.
Jessie grabbed the table. “I remember.”
Anna stood. Jessie could barely hear her.
“I remember a motel.”
Anna’s face crumpled slightly.
“Yes.”
“There were people.”
“Yes.”
“I gave them money.”
“You gave us everything.”
Jessie looked at her. “What?”
“The money you’d saved. Documents. Contacts. Everything you had.”
Jessie’s throat tightened. “Why?”
“Because Daniel was dead, Vale’s people were coming, and you decided the rest of us weren’t going to die too.”
Jessie sank back into the chair. For twenty-four years, she’d believed her criminal life began because she was selfish.
Angry.
Greedy.
Good at stealing.
But before that life had begun, she’d apparently done something entirely different. She’d saved people.
“How many?”
“Eight.”
Jessie looked up. “Daniel said seven before me.”
“There were seven before you.”
“And me makes eight.”
Anna shook her head. “No.”
Jessie’s stomach dropped. “What?”
“You were number nine.”
Silence. Jessie remembered the thought she’d had at St. Catherine’s. There had been eight. She’d been wrong.
“Who was eight?”
Anna didn’t answer. Jessie stood up. “Anna.”
The older woman walked to a bookshelf and removed a photograph from behind a row of books and placed it on the table. Nine young people stood outside St. Catherine’s.
Jessie recognized herself. Nineteen, angry-looking, arms folded.
Anna stood several people away. Jessie counted. Nine. That’s when she looked at the eighth person.
A boy, maybe seventeen. Thin, dark hair and something about him felt familiar.
Jessie picked up the photograph. “Who is he?”
Anna’s voice was quiet. “Evan.”
“Evan what?”
“I never knew his last name.”
Jessie studied his face.
Another memory stirred.
Someone laughing beside her.
A hand passing her a cigarette.
A boy saying: Bet you can’t do it.
Jessie answering: Watch me.
Her heart beat faster. “We were friends.” Anna didn’t answer.
Jessie looked up. “We were more than friends?”
“No.” Jessie waited.
Anna seemed to choose her words carefully. “Evan was assigned to you.”
The room became very quiet. “What does that mean?”
“Vale paired you.”
“For the loyalty experiment?”
“Yes.”
Jessie looked again at Evan. “But I chose Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to Evan?”
Anna’s eyes shifted away.
Jessie saw it.
“What happened?”
“That’s the part you didn’t want to remember.”
Jessie put the photograph down. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know if I should.”
Jessie laughed without humour. “Apparently everyone in my life has been making that decision for me.”
“This is different.”
“Everybody says that right before withholding something devastating.”
Anna looked at her and Jessie leaned forward. “I killed Daniel. I can survive whatever this is.”
Anna’s face changed. “No, Jessie.” Her words were gentle.
“You killed Daniel because he begged you not to let Vale take him.”
Jessie swallowed. Anna looked at Evan’s photograph.
“What happened to Evan was different.”
Jessie’s stomach turned. “What did I do?”
Anna didn’t answer but Jessie understood anyway.
“Oh God.”
“You didn’t kill him.” Jessie froze.
Anna continued quickly. “But you believed you did.”
Jessie stared. “What happened?”
“Vale ordered Evan to kill Daniel.”
Jessie’s mind went blank. “Why?”
“To force your choice.” Jessie felt suddenly nauseated.
Anna continued. “Evan refused.”
Jessie closed her eyes. “So Vale punished him.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Anna didn’t answer and Jessie didn’t ask again. She didn’t need details.
“What did I do?”
“You found him afterward.”
Jessie’s hands began shaking. “He was alive?”
“Yes.”
“Did I help him?” Anna’s silence was enough. Jessie opened her eyes.
“What did I do?”
“You walked away.”
The words struck harder than anything else Anna had said. Jessie stared at her. “No.”
“You were terrified. Vale had convinced you Evan had betrayed Daniel. You believed Evan had agreed to kill him.”
“But he hadn’t.”
“No.”
“And I left him.”
“Yes.”
Jessie sat completely still. “What happened to him?”
“We thought he died.”
Thought. Jessie caught it immediately.
“You thought.”
Anna’s face changed. “His body was never found.”
Jessie stood.
The warning. The man Emily heard. Mercer wasn’t supposed to come back. The eighth candidate. Michael Mercer. Evan. Too many names.
“Is Evan Michael?”
Anna looked genuinely startled. “No.”
Jessie believed her. “Then where is Evan?”
“I don’t know.”
“Vale knows.”
“Maybe.”
Jessie paced toward the window. Twenty-four years. Someone had been waiting twenty-four years for Jessie to remember what she’d done.
Not Daniel, not Vale – Evan.
Jessie turned. “You said I got everyone out.”
“Everyone we could find.”
“But not Evan.”
“No.”
Jessie understood the guilt now. Not the guilt she’d remembered but something underneath it, older. She had left someone behind. That was why collateral damage affected her so deeply. Why innocent people paying for her choices had finally broken something inside her. It wasn’t something new. She’d been running from the same wound her entire life.
Anna watched her carefully. “Jessie, you were nineteen.”
“Don’t.”
“You were manipulated.”
“Don’t excuse it.”
“I’m not.” Jessie looked at her.
Anna’s voice remained calm. “Understanding why you did something isn’t the same as saying it was acceptable.”
Jessie didn’t speak. That sounded like something Daniel would have said. Maybe that was why it hurt. A knock came from the door. Both women froze.
Then Gabriel’s voice came through. “Jessie?”
Anna relaxed slightly, but Jessie didn’t.
“What?”
“You’ve been in there forty minutes.”
“So?”
“So there are two men downstairs asking the bakery owner whether a woman matching your description came in.”
Jessie and Anna looked at each other.
“Police?” Jessie asked.
“No.”
Anna moved immediately. Not panicked, but practiced. She crossed to the bookshelf and pulled out a bag. Already packed – a go-bag.
Jessie stared. “You keep a go-bag behind the gardening books?”
“Botany.”
“Of course.”
Anna pulled on a coat and Jessie moved toward the door.
Anna grabbed her arm. “No.”
Jessie looked down at her hand. Anna released her.
“They want you downstairs.”
“Probably.”
“So don’t go.”
Jessie smiled faintly. “That was going to be my plan.”
Anna blinked. “You’ve changed.”
“So everyone keeps telling me.”
Gabriel spoke through the door again. “They’re coming upstairs.”
Jessie looked around the apartment. One entrance. Windows facing street and rear alley, third-floor access above them. She wasn’t interested in fighting. That realization actually surprised her. The old Jessie would already have been calculating how to hurt the men coming up the stairs, but the new Jessie had another idea.
She took out her phone. Anna stared at her. “What are you doing?”
“Calling the police.” Anna looked genuinely astonished.
Jessie sighed. “Yes, apparently this is who I am now.”
Gabriel laughed through the door. “I told you she was respectable.”
“Shut up.”
Footsteps sounded in the hallway as Jessie gave the dispatcher the address. Then everything went quiet. No knock, no attempt at the door – nothing.
Jessie waited.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Gabriel spoke softly. “They stopped.”
“Where?”
“Other end of the hall.”
Jessie frowned and then her phone buzzed. A text message from an unknown number. When she opened it she saw the photograph. Jessie stopped breathing. It had been taken seconds ago through the bakery window downstairs. It showed Gabriel standing outside Anna’s apartment. Underneath were six words.
YOU LEFT ME ONCE. DON’T AGAIN.
Jessie’s hand tightened around the phone.
Anna saw her face. “What?”
Jessie turned the screen toward her and Anna went pale. For the first time since Jessie arrived, Candidate One looked frightened.
“Evan.”
Jessie stared at the message. “You’re sure?” Anna nodded.
“How?”
Anna pointed to the photograph, not the words but the image. Specifically, the lower-left corner. Jessie enlarged it. There was a symbol scratched into the bakery window. Three short vertical lines crossed by one diagonal slash.
Jessie stared as another memory resurfaced.
Two teenagers sitting behind St. Catherine’s. Evan carving the same symbol into a bench. Jessie asking what it meant.
His answer returned with perfect clarity.
Means I was here.
Jessie’s chest tightened as another text arrived. This one contained no photograph, just an address with a time. Tomorrow at 11:00pm. Then a final message appeared.
COME ALONE.
Jessie almost laughed.
Anna stared at her. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That expression is not nothing.”
Jessie showed her the phone so Anna could read the message.
“No.”
“I know.”
“You cannot go.”
“I know.”
“You’re going.”
“Probably.”
Anna closed her eyes. “Apparently you haven’t changed as much as I thought.”
Jessie looked at Evan’s photograph again. The boy she’d left behind. The boy everyone believed had died. The boy who had apparently spent twenty-four years remembering exactly what Jessie had forgotten.
She thought about Daniel’s final message. She thought about Vale calling her proof. She thought about Michael Mercer, the man Nathan had specifically warned her not to trust. And now Evan had returned.
Jessie put the photograph into her coat.
Anna noticed. “That’s mine.”
“I’ll return it.”
“You were always a thief.”
Jessie paused and then she handed the photograph back. Anna looked genuinely surprised.
Jessie smiled faintly. “Trying something new.”
Outside, footsteps suddenly pounded down the stairs. The two men were leaving as sirens sounded in the distance. Jessie looked toward the window. She caught a glimpse of a dark vehicle pulling away from the curb but it was too far away to identify anyone inside. But she knew that Evan wasn’t hiding anymore. He wanted Jessie to find him and unlike Vale, he didn’t want Jessie to remember who she had been. He wanted her to remember what she had done to him.
Jessie looked at Anna. “Tell me everything you remember about Evan.”
Anna’s face darkened. “That could take a while.”
“Good.”
Jessie pulled out a chair. “I have twenty-four years to catch up on.”
Anna sat across from her. For a moment, neither woman spoke. Then Anna said, “There’s something you need to understand before we start.”
Jessie waited. “Vale wasn’t the person Evan hated most.”
Jessie already knew the answer. “Me.”
Anna nodded. Jessie looked at the message on her phone.
YOU LEFT ME ONCE. DON’T AGAIN.
She had spent eleven months trying to face the innocent people who had suffered because of her choices. She had believed redemption meant accepting that she couldn’t repair every life she’d damaged. Now one of those lives had found her. He wasn’t asking Jessie for an apology, he was asking her to come alone.
Jessie leaned back in the chair. “Start at the beginning.”
Anna looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “The beginning,” she said quietly, “is the night you saved Evan’s life.”
Jessie frowned. “I thought I left him to die.”
“You did.” Anna’s expression became unreadable. “But first, you were the reason he survived at all.”
Come back tomorrow for the next part…
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