The dream didn't announce itself the way it usually did. One moment Kiara was standing in the bedroom she and Donato had just left, and the next she was somewhere else entirely a house she didn't recognize, dim light coming through a window with the curtain half torn from its rod, the air thick with something she couldn't name.

A woman was screaming. Kiara couldn't see her face at first, just the shape of her, backlit against the window, voice pitched high and furious. Words came apart before they reached her, fragments only--you don't know what he--you think you can just--and underneath the fury, something else, something closer to fear.

"If you touch him." Kiara heard her own voice before she understood she was the one speaking. It came out low, shaking, but steady in a way that didn't match how her hands felt. "If you do anything to Donato, I will kill you myself."

The woman laughed. It wasn't a real laugh--sharp, broken at the edges, more warning than humor. Then there was movement, sudden and clumsy, both of them lunging at once toward something glinting on the table between them.

Kiara's hands closed around cold metal, and so did the other woman's, and for a moment neither of them was screaming anymore, just breathing hard, wrestling for control of the thing between them, the struggle ugly and unpracticed, nothing like the clean fights in movies just two women grappling off-balance, neither willing to let go.

The gunshot came without warning. It wasn't loud so much as it was total a single flat crack that swallowed every other sound in the room, and then a silence after it so complete that Kiara's ears rang with the absence of anything at all.

Something warm hit her hands. She looked down, Blood. Spreading fast, dark against the floor, pooling out from beneath the other woman, who was no longer standing, no longer screaming, no longer anything. Kiara's own hands were shaking, red streaked across her palms, and she couldn't tell couldn't understand whose blood this even was, hers or the woman's or both.

She tried to speak and nothing came. The room tilted, the floor rushing up to meet her, and Kiara felt herself falling, weightless and sick, the last thing she registered before everything went black was the sound of her own breath, ragged and disbelieving, and the woman's open, unseeing eyes still fixed somewhere past her shoulder.
______

Kiara woke gasping, drenched in sweat, one hand already pressed hard against her own chest like she needed to physically hold herself together. For a moment she couldn't tell where she was the dark unfamiliar, her heart still slamming against her ribs from a room that didn't exist anymore, if it had ever existed at all outside her own head.

She looked beside her on the bed, and it took a second to remember why the space was empty Aria had climbed in with her earlier that night, but partway through had decided she wanted to sleep beside her father instead, padding off happily down the hall to the old bedroom where Donato had settled for the night.

Kiara had let her go without much thought at the time. Now, alone in the dark, that decision left her without anyone beside her at all, and she needed it more than she'd expected to.
She sat up slowly, breath still uneven, and pressed both hands over her face.

This wasn't new. The dream had been coming for days now, the same house, the same woman, the same terrible silence after the gunshot but it never came exactly the same way twice. Each time, some new detail attached itself to what she already had, the picture slowly filling itself in whether she wanted it to or not.

Tonight it had given her something she hadn't had before.
The shoot the gun fire she fired it. Not the other woman. Her. Her own hands on the gun, her own finger, her own decision, somewhere in that blur of struggle and fear, that had ended with someone else's blood on the floor.

"I killed someone," she whispered into the dark, and the words felt too large for her mouth, too real once she'd actually said them out loud. Donato and kavya told her everything. But skip the part that she kill someone. Now remembering that. Shake her body.

Her hands were shaking. She stared down at them like she expected to still see blood there, some part of her brain not yet convinced the dream had ended. "I killed someone," she said again, quieter, and the tears came without any warning at all, sliding down fast, and she didn't try to stop them.

She needed someone. Needed someone to tell her it wasn't real, that it couldn't have happened the way she'd just seen it, that she wasn't the kind of person capable of what her own memory was insisting she'd done. She didn't stop to think about who that someone should be. Her body simply moved, pulling her up off the bed and out into the hallway before her mind had caught up with the decision.

She found herself standing outside Donato's door without quite remembering the walk there. She pushed it open. Inside, the room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a nightlight Aria refused to sleep without, and there on the bed, Donato lay on his side with Aria curled into his chest, one of his arms wrapped protectively around her even in sleep, both of them breathing slow and even, undisturbed by anything happening on the other side of that door.

Kiara stood frozen in the doorway, watching them, the sight of it settling something in her chest even as everything else inside her stayed in pieces.

She didn't think just moved toward the bed and sat down in the space behind him, close enough to see his face clearly even in the dim light. And sitting there, watching him sleep, unguarded in a way she rarely saw him during the day, something in her mind started to come loose on its own, gentler this time, nothing like the violence of the dream.

She remembered-- properly remembered seeing him for the first time when she was nineteen. Back then, Donato had just been a crush, nothing more, some distant, glamorous face she'd caught sight of in a magazine or across a company she'd been too young to go there. She couldn't say exactly when that crush had folded itself into something deeper.

It had happened slowly, without her noticing the shift, until loving him wasn't a passing, girlish thing anymore but something closer to devotion, something she'd carried quietly for years before she ever imagined it might be returned.

At the time, she hadn't known he'd end up her husband one day. Donato Romano had been a dream to her--one she'd understood, even then, probably wouldn't come true. The kind of dream a nineteen-year-old keeps to herself, private and a little foolish, not something she actually expected life to hand her.

And yet here she was now, sitting behind him in the dark with half her memory still missing, trying to understand how that impossible dream had actually happened. How Kiara Rajput had become Kiara Romano.

What had actually passed between them, in whatever years she couldn't access, that had turned a distant crush into a marriage--and then into a love strong enough that this man had spent five years refusing to accept she was dead, searching long after everyone else had stopped.

She tried to reach further into it, pushing past the fragments she already had, but nothing more surfaced. All she had was this-- that she'd loved him, quietly and completely, back in her college years, sneaking away from lectures whenever he was in the country just for the chance to see him from a distance. Everything after that stayed dark.

Whenever she pushed harder, the only thing that answered was the other memory. The house. The gun. The blood on the floor.
Tonight it had given her something new and unbearable the certainty, however fragmented, that the hand on the trigger had been hers.

That thought alone was enough to make her whole body go cold again, tears sliding down freely now, silent so as not to wake either of them. She didn't know what to do with it. Should she wake him. Ask him outright--is this real, did I actually kill someone, do you know about this.

Would he even tell her the truth if she asked. Was this the real reason he hadn't believed her five years ago, the thing sitting underneath everything else, the thing nobody had said out loud yet. Was this why the accident had happened at all, why she'd ended up running, alone, into a forest with nothing but a head injury and a baby she didn't know she was carrying.

She needed answers. All of them, not just the parts everyone had been willing to hand her so far. And underneath the fear, something sharper began to surface a quiet, unsettled anger. Why hadn't Donato told her this. Why hadn't Kavya. They'd sat with her, walked her through everything else in careful, painful detail the stalking accusation, the hospital, the family turning on her but neither of them had said a single word about a death.

About a gun. About blood on a floor that apparently belonged to a memory real enough to still be haunting her, months later, night after night. If it was real, why had they let her find it alone, in a nightmare, instead of simply telling her the truth themselves.

Sleep pulled Kiara under before she'd even realized it was happening, exhaustion finally winning out over the tangle of fear and unanswered questions still sitting in her chest. She slipped into it beside the husband she hadn't yet forgiven, without ever deciding to stay.

_____

Donato woke first, sometime near dawn, aware before anything else of a weight resting against his chest. His eyes were still closed, and his first sleepy thought was that it must be Aria, curled up on him.

He smiled, still half-asleep, and opened his eyes. Then he frowned. Aria was there, but beside him, still sound asleep, her small body curled toward his side, exactly where she'd fallen asleep the night before. Which meant whoever was currently resting against his chest wasn't her at all.

He looked down slowly, carefully, not wanting to disturb whoever it was before he understood what was happening and his breath caught entirely in his throat. Kiara. His wife. Asleep. On him. In the same bed he'd fallen asleep in with their daughter.

He stared down at her for a long moment, hardly daring to believe it, half convinced he was still dreaming and any sudden movement might dissolve the whole thing. Five years. Five years of empty beds, empty rooms, five years of imagining exactly this and never once believing he'd actually get to have it again.

He didn't know what to do with the sheer weight of the happiness sitting in his chest right then, so he simply let it move his arms for him folding them gently around her back, drawing her a little closer against him, and pressing a slow, careful kiss to the top of her head, careful not to wake her.

With his other arm, he reached over and pulled Aria in closer too, until he had both of them held against him at once, his wife and his daughter, breathing slow and even on either side of his chest.

He let his eyes fall closed again, unwilling to disturb a single second of it, and drifted back into sleep with both of them in his arms. It was, without question, the best morning he'd had in five years.

_______

The sun had climbed higher by the time anyone in the room stirred again. It was Aria who woke first, blinking against the light coming through the curtains, and it took her a moment to register the unfamiliar warmth pressed against her other side.

She lifted her head, squinting, and found her mother tucked against her father's chest, still fast asleep, one of Kiara's hands curled loosely into the fabric of his shirt.

Aria went very still, processing this with the intense seriousness she brought to everything. Then, very carefully, very quietly, she wriggled up onto her knees and leaned over Donato to get a better look, her small face inches from her mother's, studying her like she needed to confirm this wasn't some trick of the morning light.

"Mama," she whispered, testing. Kiara didn't stir. Satisfied that this was real, Aria sat back on her heels with the most enormous grin spreading across her face, the kind that seemed too big for her own cheeks to hold. She looked between her sleeping parents for a long moment, clearly deciding what to do with this information, and then made her choice.

She launched herself directly into the middle of them. "MAMA!"

Both adults jolted awake at once, Donato's arm instinctively tightening around both of them before his brain caught up with what was happening, and Kiara sat up so fast she nearly headbutted him, blinking hard against the sudden light and the sudden four- almost five year-old now bouncing on the mattress between them.

"Mama slept here! Mama slept with Daddy!" Aria announced this at a volume entirely unnecessary for a room this size, practically vibrating with excitement. "Does this mean we're all a family now? A real family, all sleeping in the same bed?"

Kiara, still disoriented, opened her mouth and then closed it again, glancing sideways at Donato for help, her face flushing slightly as the full reality of the situation caught up with her she'd fallen asleep in his arms, in his bed, after everything, without meaning to, without deciding to, and now their daughter was treating it as the single greatest development of her short life.

Donato, for his part, was doing a poor job of hiding his own smile, propped up on one elbow, watching Kiara with something soft and unguarded in his eyes that made her look away first.

"It doesn't mean anything yet, baby," Kiara said carefully, smoothing down Aria's wild morning hair mostly to give her hands something to do. "I just fell asleep here by accident."

"By accident," Aria repeated, clearly unconvinced, glancing between the two of them with the shrewd suspicion of a child who sensed there was more going on than the adults were willing to admit. "Okay." She said it in a tone that suggested she was simply choosing not to argue the point right now, filing it away instead for later use.

She flopped back down between them anyway, wedging herself into the middle with total confidence that this was exactly where she belonged, one hand reaching to pat her mother's arm and the other reaching for her father's.

"Five more minutes," she announced, closing her eyes again like the matter was settled. "Family cuddle time." Kiara let out a small, helpless laugh despite everything still unresolved in her chest, and across from her, Donato caught her eye again, something quiet and hopeful passing between them that neither of them said out loud. Neither of them moved for a long while after that.

_____

After a memorable morning, the family freshen up and make their way downstairs, where the rest of the Romanos were already gathered around the dining table waiting for them. The moment Kavya spotted Kiara, she got up and pulled her into a hug.

"Are you okay?" she asked, worry creeping into her voice. She'd been anxious about this ever since Kiara moved into the mansion the night before, half hoping the place would help remember her memory, half dreading what she'd actually remember if it did. "Nothing happened during the night that bothered you?"

Kiara smiled, though a question was still sitting quietly at the back of her mind why hadn't Kavya, or Donato, ever mentioned that she might have killed someone. She pushed the thought aside for now and just nodded. "I'm okay, aunt. Don't worry."

Kavya patted her back gently, relieved. "Good. Come on, lets have breakfast. Mom and I made your favorites." Kiara moved to sit beside Aria, who was already settled next to her father. Aravi leaned over and kissed Aria's cheek. "How's my princess this morning?"

"I'm good, pretty grandma," Aria said, beaming. Then her attention drifted to the spread on the table, and she froze for a second, staring. Sitting right there among the other dishes was a plate of gnocchi -- the same one Granny used to make her back in Scanno, soft little dumplings in a light sage butter sauce that Aria had always begged for seconds of. "Did you make this, pretty grandma?" she asked, eyes wide.

Aravi smiled. "I did, baby. Your daddy told me it's one of your favorites, so I made it especially for my princess and her mama."

Kiara smiled too. "Thanks, Mom," she said easily, the word slipping out before she'd fully thought about it.

Aria, copying her mother without missing a beat, chirped, "Thanks, Mom!"

The whole table burst out laughing. Donato reached over and patted Aria's head, gently correcting her. "You should say thanks, Grandma, baby, not Mom."

"Oops." Aria's eyes went wide. "Sorry, Daddy. Aria was just copying Mama." And without missing a beat, she reached up and grabbed his ear.

The whole table erupted again--Aravi, Elana, Albert, Kavya, even little Elora, all caught off guard by the gesture. It was new to everyone else, this odd little habit of hers, apologizing by grabbing someone else's ear instead of her own. Donato, by now, barely reacted at all, well used to it after weeks of having his ear pulled at random intervals throughout the day.

______

After a chaotic breakfast, the family spent the rest of the day together. By evening, Donato was sitting in the garden, keeping half an eye on the kids-- Aria, Elora, and Elian-- playing nearby, making sure none of it turned into another shouting match like the day before.

He was so focused on watching them that he didn't notice Kiara walk up and sit down beside him. "Ehm." She cleared her throat.
He glanced over, surprised, and smiled. "Hey. You okay? Need anything?"

She shook her head, eyes still on the kids. After a moment of quiet, she said, "You know Aria's turning five next month."
Donato went quiet for a second, then smiled. "She was born right after our wedding anniversary."

"Hmm Kavya aunt mentioned that. That our anniversary is at the start of this month."

"Mm it was a week before i found you" He said.

"I was thinking," Kiara said, "we should celebrate her birthday properly this year."

"There's nothing to think about, Kiara." He turned to look at her, something warm in his expression. "This is going to be the first birthday I actually get to be there for. Of course it's going to be a big one."

Kiara nodded, and quiet settled between them again, easier this time. A minute passed in quiet, and then Kiara broke it.
"Have you told me everything?" She kept her eyes on the kids, but her voice had gone tight. "Everything true, about what happened to me five years ago. Whatever I did back then. You're not hiding anything from me, right?"

Donato went still. "Of course I told you everything," he said, a little too quickly, a little too nervous around the edges. "Why would I hide anything from you?"

Kiara turned and looked at him then, and something in that look made his stomach drop--because he knew, immediately, that she already suspected something. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go down easily.

"Liar," she said quietly.

"Hm?" He tried to keep his face neutral, and failed.

"You're lying. You said you told me everything, that you're not hiding anything." Her voice climbed, sharper now. "Then why didn't you tell me I killed someone?" Tears spilled over as she said it, and Donato's eyes went wide with panic. How could she know this--she hadn't gotten her memory back, not fully, not in any way he'd been told about.

"I saw it," she said, before he could get a single word out.

"What?"

"You're wondering how I know." Her voice shook now, the anger giving way to something rawer underneath. "I've been seeing pieces of it for days. A house. A woman. Blood. A gun. Someone screaming. I didn't understand what any of it meant, I thought it was just some-- some nightmare, something my mind was making up.

But then last night I finally saw it clearly. I was the one holding the gun. I was the one who fired it. I killed her." Her breath caught. "And I know why. It was for you. I was threatening her because of you, she was there because of you, I know that much. So why--why didn't you tell me that. Why didn't you tell me I'm a-I'm a- She couldn't get the word out the second time, her voice breaking apart entirely as it caught in her throat. "That I'm a murderer."

Donato didn't hesitate. He pulled her straight into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. "Shh. No, sweetheart, you are not a murderer." The word slipped out of him without thought, the old name for her arriving on instinct, though she was too far into her own spiral to notice it at all.

"I killed someone," she sobbed into his shoulder.

"No-you didn't. You didn't kill her the way you're thinking. What you did, you did in self-defense, baby. You are not a murderer. I never once blamed you for what happened to Tara. I never once asked you to explain it, because there was nothing to explain you were protecting yourself. Protecting me."

Kiara pulled back just enough to look at him properly, still shaking, breath coming in short, uneven pulls. "Self-defense? What--what actually happened, Donato? And who is this Tara? I want to know everything. All of it. I can't keep piecing this together through nightmares, I need to actually know what happened five years ago. I want to remember everything."

"You will, Kiara. You'll remember everything, just don't force it. It'll come back when the time's right." He kept his voice steady, gentle, though his own hands hadn't quite stopped shaking either.

"No. I can't wait anymore." Her voice hardened. "I want to know everything, and I know how I'll get my memory back."
That confused him. He frowned. "How?"

"The house."

"The house?" He repeated it slowly, dread already building somewhere in his chest.

"Yes. Where it all happened. I know if I go there, I'll remember everything. If my mind is pushed hard enough, into the actual place, into the hardest memory--I think it'll force the rest of it to come back."

"Kiara, no. That's not--that could really hurt you." His voice cracked slightly on the warning.

"I don't care. I've already suffered enough. This is nothing compared to that." She said it with total conviction. "I want to go there."

" Kiara try to understand, it's not a good-" He didn't get to finish.

"You know where it is, don't you?" She cut him.

He went silent. How was he supposed to tell her that the place she was asking about was his own penthouse--the same one, still standing, still his. He swallowed hard. "Kia--he started, but she cut him off again.

"You know. I can tell. Take me there."

"No, Kiara. I can't take you there. It's not right for you, not like this."

"You will take me there or let me decide that myself." Her voice sharpened with frustration now. "I don't know anything, Donato. I have half a life and half a memory and I'm so tired of being handed pieces."

"No. I'm not taking you there." He held firm. "If you want to know what happened, I'll tell you everything myself. But I won't take you to that house."

She stared at him. "You won't."

"No, I won't."

"Fine. Then I'll go on my own." Her voice climbed, sharp now, edged with something close to contempt. "Everyone else seems to know exactly what happened in that house. If you won't take me, I'll find someone who will. It's not like I have very high expectations of you anyway." The words came fast, unfiltered. "You didn't stand by me back then. Why would today be any different."

She didn't seem to register how deeply those words landed, how each one drove in like a needle in his heart. Donato knew exactly what he'd done five years ago, knew he'd failed her by not listening, and he'd spent every day since paying for that mistake in one form or another. And here it still was, following him, everyone he loved handing him back the consequence of it in different shapes, over and over. Even Kiara now.

I deserve this, he thought, standing there absorbing it without flinching outwardly. These words, this anger--I deserve it. I hurt her. I let this happen to her. He took a slow breath, steadying himself, and stood.

Kiara had already turned, already moving toward the gate with the same stubborn determination she'd apparently always carried, memory or not. He caught up and gently closed his hand around her wrist, stopping her. "Okay." His voice was quiet now, resigned. "I'll take you there."

Kiara looked at him for a moment. "ok lets go then," she reminded him.

Donato glanced toward the darkening sky. "Not today. It's already evening. I'll take you there tomorrow."

Kiara studied his face for a few seconds before finally nodding. "Then tomorrow." A small smile appeared on her lips. Donato smiled back. For a moment, neither of them said anything. They simply stood there, looking at each other. The noise around them seemed to disappear.

Donato found himself getting lost in her eyes, just as Kiara seemed to forget everything else around her. Until a sudden, high-pitched cry shattered the moment. Both of them immediately turned toward the sound. Their expressions changed.

They had completely forgotten about the children playing nearby. Elian was crying loudly, while Aria and Elora stood a short distance away, looking frightened and nervous.

Kiara and Donato rushed toward them. Donato immediately crouched in front of Elian. "What happened, baby? Why are you crying?" Elian hiccupped through his tears and pointed toward Aria.

"A-auncle dada... your daughter is bad." Donato frowned slightly.
He looked at Elian, then toward Aria. "Why? What did she do, baby?"

Kiara crouched beside him. "Tell us what happened."

"She pushed me," Elian said, wiping his tears with the back of his little hand. Kiara's eyes widened. She turned toward Aria--Aria immediately gulped and took a nervous step backward.

"Why did you push him, Aria?" Kiara asked, her voice firm. Aria's eyes quickly filled with tears. Donato noticed immediately. He gently placed a hand on Kiara's arm. "Calm down," he murmured. "Don't be too hard on her. I'm sure she didn't do it intentionally. Let me talk to her."

Kiara looked at him for a moment. Then she sighed and nodded.
"Okay." Donato stood and walked toward Aria. The little girl looked terrified. But instead of scolding her, Donato gently pulled her into his arms. "Come here, princess."

Aria wrapped her small arms around his neck. Donato rubbed her back softly. "Now tell Daddy what happened. Why did you push Elian?"

Aria sniffled. "Daddy, Aria didn't push Elian intentionally."

"I know," Donato said calmly. "Tell me what happened."

"We were playing with the ball." She wiped her tears. "I wanted to throw the ball in the other direction, so Elian and Elora would catch it. But Elian became stubborn and started trying to snatch the ball from me."

Donato listened quietly. "He kept saying he wanted to throw it," Aria continued. "I was trying to hold onto it, and when I moved my hands, I accidentally pushed him." Her little voice trembled. "I didn't mean to hurt him, Daddy."

Donato looked down at her tearful face. His expression softened immediately. "I know, princess." He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Accidents happen. What matters is that you didn't mean to hurt him."

Aria nodded quietly against his chest. Donato kissed the top of her head before looking toward Elian. "Now," he said gently, "we should probably apologize to each other, don't you think?"

Listening to her father, Aria immediately moved toward Elian and gently held his ear between her fingers. "Aria is sorry, Elian. Aria didn't push you intentionally," she said sincerely.

Elian quickly wiped his remaining tears with one hand before reaching out and grabbing Aria's ear in return, copying her gesture. "Elian is sorly too," he said.

Donato smiled at the sight of them. "That's my babies. Now, let's go find your enzo daddy." The children's faces immediately brightened. "And after that, we'll all go have some ice cream."

"Ice cream!" all three children cheered together. They immediately forgot about their little argument and ran toward the helipad, eager to find Enzo.

Donato followed behind them, watching the three children with an amused smile. After a few steps, however, he noticed something. Kiara wasn't walking beside him. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

She was still standing several feet behind him, completely lost in thought. Donato turned around and walked back toward her. He stopped directly in front of her. Kiara didn't even seem to notice him at first. A faint smile appeared on Donato's lips. He stepped closer and leaned toward her ear.

"Are you daydreaming about your husband?" Kiara's heart skipped. Her breath caught instantly. She came out of her thoughts and looked at him, startled.

"No," she replied quickly. "I was thinking about what happened in that house." Her expression became thoughtful. "Why was I fighting with that woman because of you?"

Donato's expression softened. "Because you loved me." His voice was quiet. "You loved me so much that you were willing to put yourself in danger just to protect me."

Kiara stared at him. "Was I the possessive type of wife?"

A small chuckle escaped Donato. "Yeah. You were." He looked at her with unmistakable warmth. "And I loved that part of you." His voice softened further. "Your devotional love. It always made me think about the things people are willing to do when they truly love someone."

Kiara remained silent, simply looking at him. Then she asked quietly, "Have you ever experienced that kind of devotional love?"

Donato smiled. "I have." He paused. "I still do."

Kiara's eyes searched his face "With whom?"

This time, Donato didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer. Very slowly. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. Kiara's breath caught. Donato didn't move away immediately. His lips lingered for a moment before he slowly moved toward her cheek.

Kiara closed her eyes. She didn't understand why. She didn't understand why she wasn't stepping away. Why she wasn't pushing him back. She simply stood there, frozen beneath the strange warmth of the moment.

Then Donato's lips touched hers. For a brief moment, everything around them disappeared. Kiara's entire body went still. Her breath stopped. Her mind went completely blank. She slowly opened her eyes when Donato finally pulled away.

He looked at her for a moment, his expression calm and almost knowing. "I think you got your answer." His voice was barely above a whisper. Then he stepped away and walked toward the children.

Kiara remained where she was. Completely frozen. She touched her lips unconsciously. What just happened? She couldn't understand it. She couldn't even process why she had let him kiss her.

A few feet away, Donato stopped. He turned around and looked at her. "Coming, sweetheart?" Kiara didn't move. Donato shook his head with a small smile. "You're going to freeze standing there. Come inside now." He turned and continued walking.

Kiara remained there for another second before finally forcing herself to move, she walked a few steps behind Donato, but her mind was nowhere near the children or the laughter ahead of her.

Her fingers unconsciously brushed against her lips. The memory of his kiss was still there. But instead of making her smile, another thought slowly began settling inside her. Would going back to that house really bring her memories back?

Would she remember everything she had forgotten? Would she discover something about herself that would only leave her more confused? Or worse--Would she remember something she wasn't ready to face? She swallowed hard.

What would happen tomorrow? What if entering that house unlocked everything? What if she remembered the woman she had once been? The Kiara from five years ago. The woman who had loved Donato so fiercely that she had been willing to fight anyone who came between them.

The woman who had been ready to risk her own life for him.
The woman who had loved him enough to both die for him and kill for him. Kiara's steps slowed. A strange fear tightened around her chest. What if I remember everything?

She looked toward Donato's back. He was walking ahead with the children, completely unaware of the storm inside her mind.
What if I become that Kiara again? She didn't know whether she wanted her memories back anymore.

Part of her desperately wanted to know the truth. To understand why she had loved this man so deeply. But another part of her was terrified of what that truth might reveal. What if remembering doesn't make things better?

What if it only gives me another life to mourn? Kiara lowered her eyes. Tomorrow, she would enter that house. Tomorrow, she might finally meet the woman she used to be. In this long five years its the first time, Kiara wasn't sure whether she was more afraid of forgetting her past--or remembering it.

Thank you