Chapter 11. The Memorial

Three days later

The day had come. The day that was supposed to put a full stop. But Irene already knew — this was not the end. This was a trap.

“He won’t come if we just wait,” Anna said quietly, leaning closer. “But he will come if he senses a threat.”

“What kind?” whispered Irene.

Anna looked straight into her eyes.

“You.”

A pause hung between them.

“You’ll say that you remember everything. Publicly. In front of everyone.”

Irene felt a cold shiver run through her body.

“He won’t allow that,” Anna continued. “He will appear. To stop you.”

“This is dangerous…”

A barely noticeable smile.

“We are already in danger. The only question is — who of us will come out alive.”

***

The light was too warm. The people — too quiet. Everything looked wrong. As if this wasn’t a memorial. As if it were a performance. Irene stood in front of the microphone.

Her fingers barely touched the podium — as if testing whether this was reality.

In the front row sat Anna.
Calm. Composed. Cold. A little further — Olivia. With a smile that was cracking.

“Thank you all for coming,” Irene began.

Her voice was soft. But confident.

“Today we have gathered… to say goodbye.”

A pause.

“But there is a problem.”

People stirred.

“Not all the dead we are mourning are gone.”

Silence fell sharply. Olivia went pale.

“I thought for a long time that I had lost my memory,” Irene continued. “That I was a victim.”

A breath.

“But the truth is… I remember.”

A whisper rippled through the hall.

“I remember that night.”

A pause. Slow. Drawn out.

“And I remember you.”

Her gaze swept across the crowd.

“Step forward.”

Silence. A second. Another.

“You always ruin everything, Irene.”

A voice. Alive. From behind. People turned. Someone screamed. Someone stepped back. And he just stood there. Alive. Calm. As if this was his stage. Oscar. He moved forward slowly.

“I almost believed you wouldn’t remember anything,” he said.

Irene didn’t move.

“Me too,” she replied quietly.

Anna stood.

“It’s over, Oscar.”

He smiled. Empty. Cold.

“No,” he said. “You just didn’t understand the rules of the game.”

His hand slid under his jacket. Irene held her breath.

“Oscar, don’t… —” Too late.

A shot. Loud. Dull. The world compressed. Irene felt the impact. As if she had been pushed out of reality. The air vanished. Her legs buckled. The floor met her sharply. Screams. Chaos. But it was all distant now. As if underwater. Ceiling. Light. Faces. Anna shouting something. Someone running. Someone crying. And Irene… just lying there. And suddenly — silence.

***

Quiet.
So quiet…
I’ve never heard silence.
Real silence.
Without fear.
Without him.

Strange.
All my life I was afraid of this moment.
Afraid of the end.
And now… it doesn’t look scary.

I remember.
Finally.
Everything.
His eyes.
That night.
That choice.

I could have left.
Could have spoken.
Could have stopped it.
But I stayed silent.
And silence — is also a crime.

Maybe… this is the truth.
Not the one that saves.
But the one that catches up.
Slowly.
Inevitably.

And when it comes… it takes everything.

I thought I was a victim.
Then — a witness.
But no.
I am part of this story.
Just like he is.

The light softens.
Warm.
As if someone is calling.
Is this the end? …or just the beginning?

I don’t know.
And for the first time… I don’t need to know.

Pause.
Silence.
Light, almost weightless.
And the darkness has finally stopped being the enemy.

End… or just the beginning?