Velora couldn't breathe properly that night.
Not because of fear.
Because something inside her had started aligning.
Police delay.
Memory suppression.
Mother's control.
Father's guilt.
It was too precise.
Too structured.
Like she wasn't just protected—
She was managed.
Around 2 a.m., she sat up suddenly.
There was something wrong.
Not with the past.
With her.
She grabbed her old storage box from under the bed.
Childhood documents. Report cards. Vaccination card. Birth certificate.
Her hands trembled as she unfolded the paper.
Name: Caspian.
Date of birth: ——
Place of birth: St. Martha Medical Center.
Her eyes narrowed.
She had never seen baby pictures from that hospital.
Only photos from months later.
She moved to her laptop.
Opened the hospital website.
Searched records archive.
St. Martha Medical Center.
Closed.
Five years before her birth.
Her blood ran cold.
Closed.
Before she was born.
Then where—
Her breathing became uneven.
She grabbed her phone.
Went to government birth registry site.
Entered her details.
Name. Date. Parent names.
Processing…
No record found.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
She tried again.
Different spelling.
Still—
No record found.
The room felt like it was spinning.
"That's not possible," she whispered.
Every citizen had a record.
Unless—
Unless it had been altered.
Or created later.
The lights flickered.
Cold air brushed against her neck.
He was there.
Weaker.
But present.
"You found it," Riven Ash said quietly.
Her voice shook.
"I don't exist."
His eyes softened.
"You do."
"Then why is there no record of my birth?"
Silence stretched between them.
"Because the story you were given… wasn't the first one."
Her stomach dropped.
"Say it clearly."
He stepped closer.
But his form flickered violently.
Like speaking cost him something.
"You weren't born into that house."
The words shattered something invisible.
Her mind went blank.
"What?"
"You were brought into it."
Her pulse roared in her ears.
"Adopted?" she whispered.
He didn't answer.
Instead—
"Not officially."
The room went deadly quiet.
Not officially.
That meant—
No papers. No legal process. No public record.
"You're lying," she said weakly.
"I can't lie to you," he replied.
"You said I was screaming your name that night," she said suddenly. "Why would I care so much if I didn't grow up there?"
His gaze darkened.
"You were always different from them."
Her breathing turned shallow.
"Different how?"
Before he could answer—
A sharp knock echoed on her door.
Three times.
Precise.
Her mother.
Velora's entire body froze.
"You need to hide," she whispered urgently.
But he was already fading.
Faster than before.
"You're remembering too fast," he said.
"Don't disappear," she breathed.
His hand almost reached for hers.
Almost.
"You were never meant to be theirs," he said softly.
And then—
He vanished.
The door opened.
Her mother stood there in the doorway.
Fully dressed.
At 2 a.m.
Her eyes scanned the room.
Then landed on the open laptop screen.
The birth registry page.
The "No Record Found" still visible.
Silence.
Heavy.
"You're digging in places you shouldn't," her mother said calmly.
Velora's voice felt foreign.
"Why is there no record of my birth?"
Her mother stepped inside slowly.
Closed the door behind her.
"You're tired," she said gently.
"That's not an answer."
Her mother's gaze sharpened.
"For someone who doesn't remember her own past," she said softly, "you're very determined to rewrite it."
The words hit wrong.
Rewrite.
Not discover.
Rewrite.
"I was born at St. Martha," Velora said.
Her mother's expression didn't change.
"Were you?"
A chill crawled up Velora's spine.
"Say it clearly," Velora demanded.
Her mother stepped closer.
Close enough that Velora could smell her perfume.
"Some children," her mother said quietly, "are chosen."
Chosen.
Not born.
Chosen.
"But not all choices are documented."
Velora's heart pounded violently.
"So I was adopted."
Her mother smiled faintly.
"If that makes you feel safer."
Safer.
Not true.
Safer.
"You lied about my birth."
"We gave you a life."
"That's not what I asked!"
Her mother's voice dropped colder.
"Be careful," she said. "The deeper you look, the more you'll question why we chose you in the first place."
Chose you.
Velora's blood turned to ice.
"Why did you choose me?" she whispered.
For the first time—
Her mother didn't smile.
"You'll understand soon."
She turned and walked toward the door.
Paused.
Without looking back, she added—
"Some bloodlines are dangerous."
And then she left.
Velora stood frozen in the middle of her room.
Not officially adopted. No birth record. Chosen. Dangerous bloodline.
And suddenly—
The bullet that killed Riven Ash didn't feel random anymore.