For a moment, Palo couldn't breathe.
Ash's words hung in the cold air of the tunnel—fragile, terrified, and heavier than the silence that followed.
Dr. Calder watched them with unsettling composure, like he was observing two pieces of a puzzle finally beginning to interlock.
Palo forced his voice out.
"Ash… what do you mean, you tried to save me?"
Ash didn't answer right away. His hands were trembling—something he rarely allowed anyone to see. He took a small step forward, blocking Calder from Palo's view, as if he could physically shield him from the truth the same way he shielded him from everything else.
"Ash," Palo whispered more firmly. "Please."
Slowly, Ash turned back to him. His eyes were soft but full of pain, like he wished he could hold the truth in his chest forever just so Palo wouldn't have to hear it.
"You were seven," Ash said quietly. "I was eleven. Old enough to understand what my mother was investigating… but not old enough to stop it."
Palo's heartbeat thudded in his ears.
Dr. Calder's voice drifted closer.
"Let him speak, Ash. You've hidden this long enough."
Ash shot him a warning glare, then continued.
"My mom—she discovered that the organization had taken children. For research. For experiments they couldn't get approval for." His voice wavered. "You were one of them, Palo. But she didn't know until she found you wandering outside the facility late at night."
Palo's breath hitched. "I was… wandering? Why?"
Ash swallowed. "Because you escaped."
Dr. Calder nodded. "He was always clever."
Ash ignored him. "My mom brought you home. She said she'd protect you. She hid you in our basement. The next morning, she planned to take you to a journalist she trusted."
Palo's vision blurred. "But something happened."
Ash's jaw tightened. "They came to our house before dawn."
Dr. Calder spoke softly, almost gently. "We had tracked you. You were valuable to them."
Palo stared at Ash, barely hearing Calder now.
"What did you do?"
Ash's shoulders shook. He looked younger—like the memory dragged him back to being a frightened boy again.
"I woke up to shouting," Ash said. "Doors breaking. My mom screaming. And you—crying in the dark, begging her not to let them take you again."
Palo felt the ground sway underneath him.
"I ran downstairs," Ash continued. "And I grabbed you. I didn't think. I just ran. I tried to get you out through the back door."
He stopped—breathing too fast.
Calder's eyes softened. "Tell him the rest."
Ash's voice broke. "They caught us before we made it outside."
Palo didn't move.
Ash looked like he was fighting back a thousand pieces of that night—images, sounds, guilt.
"They dragged you away from me," he whispered. "I kept holding onto your shirt, and they kept pulling harder. You were screaming. I wouldn't let go. I didn't care what they did to me—until one of them shoved me so hard I hit the wall."
Palo felt his chest tighten painfully.
He hadn't expected this.
Not from Ash.
Not this kind of grief.
"They took you," Ash said, voice trembling. "You were reaching out for me, and I— I couldn't get up fast enough. I tried. I swear, I tried."
Calder stepped closer, but not threateningly. His voice was quieter than before.
"That part is true," he said. "Ash fought harder than most of the adults we dealt with."
Ash glared at him. "I don't need your validation."
Calder shrugged lightly. "Just filling in the gaps."
Palo forced air into his lungs. "What… what happened after that?"
Calder answered first.
"We wiped your memory. Too much trauma. Too much knowledge."
Palo flinched.
Ash's voice grew sharp. "You didn't wipe mine."
"No," Calder said. "Because you were a liability. And you still are."
Ash stepped in front of Palo again, instinctive, as if Calder's words were a threat.
"Don't talk like you know me," Ash snapped.
Calder raised a brow. "I knew you before you even understood the meaning of danger."
Palo's hands curled into fists. "Why are you telling us all this now?"
Calder looked at him—really looked at him.
"Because you're in danger again. And because Ash won't tell you the part he's most afraid of."
Ash went rigid.
Palo's heart pounded.
"…What part is that?"
Dr. Calder's eyes darkened.
"The reason they targeted your house that night," he said softly, "was not because your mother discovered Palo."
Palo blinked. "Then why?"
Calder pointed at Ash.
"Because of him. Because Ash's mother learned that her own son had been marked by the organization."
Ash's breath caught audibly.
Palo stared at him, stunned.
"Ash… you were marked?"
Ash squeezed his eyes shut.
"I didn't want you to know."
Calder stepped fully into the light of the tunnel.
"Ash is the reason they found you, Palo. Not the other way around."
The words echoed like a cold wind.
Palo looked at Ash, his voice barely a whisper.
"Is it true?"
Ash opened his eyes.
And for the first time, Palo saw pure fear in them—not of Calder, not of the organization…
…but of losing Palo.
"Yes," Ash whispered. "It's true."
---