Chapter 5

"Ahhhhh!"

I let out a blood-curdling scream.

A massive surge of electricity shocked my brain, and white light exploded behind my eyelids.

My body convulsed violently, my hands and feet straining against the steel cuffs.

Blood began to trickle down from my hairline, dripping onto the cold metal chair.

The images on the screen started flickering erratically.

One second it was a college lecture hall, the next it was a shopping mall, then a road trip.

They were all happy memories of the three of us—Lucas, Chloe, and me.

But there was absolutely nothing from the night of the assault.

The crowd grew restless, and the live chats were spamming questions:

"Where is the memory of the night she was assaulted?"

"I thought she saw the attacker?"

Lucas frowned and turned to the technician, his voice deep and threatening:

"What's happening?"

"Why can't you find the memory of the assault?!"

The technician wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, stammering:

"Mr. Cole... she... she seems to be fighting the system..."

"She is actively blocking that specific memory from being extracted!"

"What? Fighting the system?"

Lucas was shocked. He glared at me with dark, menacing eyes.

He slammed his hand on the control desk, roaring:

"Elena! Even now, you are still protecting him?!"

"Who could possibly be worth your life? He is a rapist!"

Ten years ago, Lucas had asked me the exact same thing, screaming in my face.

When Chloe's suicide note was made public, I became public enemy number one.

It took less than twenty-four hours for Lucas to go from believing in my innocence, to doubting me, to utterly hating me.

He was the only one who knew where I was hiding with Casper.

The night Casper was poisoned, Lucas had broken the window of my hideout in a fit of rage, and the flying glass had sliced my forehead open.

Blood had instantly blurred my vision.

He had looked at me with pure disgust:

"Elena, we were together for three years. Chloe loved you like a sister. What did we mean to you?"

"For a rapist, you threw away the people who loved you most!"

That night, I was almost beaten to death by an angry mob.

Eleanor, Lucas's mother, had dragged her raging son away. Two days later, the Cole family moved abroad, never to return.

Now, Lucas stared at me with eyes colder than ice.

He waved his hand dismissively, his voice sharp and final: "Force the extraction deeper! I don't care what it takes!"

The technician hesitated. "But, Mr. Cole, her body is extremely weak, and her mind is fighting back hard. If we force it..."

"She might not survive the shock!"

Lucas let out a cold, mocking laugh.

"Not survive?"

"I spent years and poured all my resources into developing this technology just to find the truth!"

"I don't give a damn if she lives or dies!"

"A piece of trash like her deserves to die anyway!"

With those words, the terrified technician cranked up the dial.

The machine let out a high-pitched, deafening whine. The needles drove deep into my brain.

"Ahhhhh!"

My agonizing scream shattered the quiet of the plaza.

Blood began to pour from my nose, ears, and the corners of my eyes. It felt like my chest was on fire, my body twitching uncontrollably in the chair.

The technician’s hands were shaking violently. "Mr. Cole... should we stop?"

"She's... she's going into shock!"

Lucas stared at the screen, his expression dark and unreadable.

"Keep going," he whispered, his voice completely devoid of emotion.