The next day, the hours drag like a waking nightmare. I do makeup on faces I barely see, listen to people talk without hearing a word.
Every minute that passes brings me closer to 10 p.m. to the canal to the message signed N.L.
I haven't told Noah. Not yet.
I want to know first. Then decide who to believe.
9:45 p.m.
Mila and I walk through the damp streets, hoods up.
"Are you sure about this?" she asks for the fifth time.
"No. But I have to go."
"And me?"
"You stay at a distance. If I text you 'storm,' you call the police."
"You're turning into your own movie, Léna."
"Maybe. But for once, I'd like to be the one writing the script."
The canal is empty. The fine rain gives everything the shine of broken glass.
I walk slowly, heart pounding with every step.
Then I see him. Nathan.
Leaning against the railing, black hood up, hands in his pockets.
"I knew you'd come," he says softly.
"I didn't come alone."
"I know. Mila's in the alley behind the car. Good. You're learning."
I clench my jaw.
"Why did you contact me?"
"Because Noah lied to you again. And because you need to understand what they did to you too."
I tense.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"LovLink isn't just an app. It's an emotional test program. 'Swipe' is the pilot project. They created controlled profiles, forced matches. The goal? To study how people fall in love… and how far they go when everything falls apart."
My stomach twists.
"And Noah?"
"He was one of their main subjects."
"No, he told me he was trapped. Not complicit."
Nathan laughs, without warmth.
"Trapped? He signed the test agreements. He knew everything."
I shake my head, refusing to believe it.
"You're lying."
"Want proof?"
He pulls a plastic folder from his jacket and sets it on the railing.
Inside: printed pages, internal reports. All stamped: Novera Tech – Swipe Program.
I recognize the initials: N.L., N. Léger. But there's another signature too.
Noah Léger.
I pick up the first page.
"Subject: simulation of authentic emotional bond between subjects L.V. and N.L. Observation of reactions to gradual revelation of past trauma."
My fingers tremble.
"Phase 3: confrontation at the canal. Reactivation of initial memory."
I lift my eyes, throat dry.
"'Phase 3'… that was us?"
Nathan nods slowly.
"Yes. Everything you've lived these past weeks was part of their tests."
I stand there frozen.
"Even… the match?"
"Even the match."
I stagger. Everything spins.
Nathan places a hand on my shoulder.
"Léna, listen to me. I'm not your enemy. But my brother… he's not who you think anymore."
"You mean he still works for them?"
"He never stopped."
He scrolls through his phone, then shows me his screen.
"Look. The last messages he sent them."
On the screen:
"Subject highly receptive. Extend emotional phase before rupture." "Prepare transition to Nathan Léna confrontation."
A tightness claws at my throat. That's his way of writing. His tone.
But it feels impossible.
"He told me he wanted to stop all this."
"He's lying to finish the final phase."
I step away, struggling to breathe.
Nathan watches me with a strange gentleness.
"I know it's hard. But you have to choose: keep following him, or leave the program before they erase everything."
"Erase?"
"The data. The memories. They already started with Clara."
I stare at him, frozen.
"You mean Clara…"
"…may not be dead."
I go completely still.
"What?"
"She vanished, Léna. That's all we know. The accident was never clearly proven. The photos in the report were retouched. And the body was never shown to the family."
The ground tilts under me.
"You're lying."
"I swear I'm not. Noah knows. He was there when Novera signed the 'Clara Protocol.'"
A noise behind us makes me jump. Footsteps.
I turn.
Noah. Soaked, out of breath.
"What are you telling her?" he snaps.
Nathan smiles.
"The truth. The one you kept from her."
Noah comes closer, furious.
"You want to ruin everything again."
"No," Nathan replies calmly.
"I want her to see who you really are."
I raise my hands, panicked.
"Stop! Enough!"
They face each other, a few meters apart, under the pounding rain. Two brothers. Two mirrors.
And me between them, unable to tell which one is lying.
Noah holds out a hand to me.
"Léna, come. He wants to manipulate you."
Nathan shakes his head.
"If you go with him, you'll never get out of their game."
I tremble.
Between them, truth is a weapon.
I step back, unable to choose.
And that's when I see, behind them, on the bridge…
a third figure.
Still. Feminine.
Her hair sticks to her face under the rain.
And her voice, when she speaks, chills my blood.
"Stop. Both of you."
I know that voice. Soft. Fragile.
Impossible.
Clara.