In a small room, tucked out of the sight of people, I meet a man who calls himself Cedrix. The walls of the room are concrete—not silver like the walls where the Higher is trapped. These walls deafen all noise and it relaxes me a little. Two chairs stand in the middle and a wooden cabinet rounds the corner.  It reminds me of the hospital a little, only less sterile and without beds.

Cedrix is a tall man, with dark skin, and brown hair cropped short. He’s also missing a hand, which doesn’t make sense. Hands aren’t supposed to be missing, people aren’t supposed to have bruises or white lines imperfecting their skin.

“That’s Cedrix’s freedom,” Aiden explains when he notices me staring at Cedrix’s missing hand.

“Your freedom seems painful,” I say to Cedrix.

Cedrix smiles softly. “Yes, but I’m happier with it gone. It reminds me of how painful things could be.” He gestures at the chair. “Whenever you’re ready, Kayla, take a seat.”

I give him a funny look. “Do I know you?”

He nods. “You do.”

“And why am I getting in the chair?”

“You want to remember, right?” He pauses, glancing at Aiden. “You haven’t explained this to her?”

“I was afraid I’d mess it up,” Aiden replies, glancing in my direction. “Because I know her.”

Cedrix shakes his head as he plops down in a chair. “Then I guess you can wait outside.”

Aiden nods quickly, seeming anxious as he turns for the door.

I catch his elbow. “Why can’t he stay?” I ask Cedrix.

“It’s better if he waits outside.” He scoots his chair forward, closer to the other chair. “He can come back when this is all over.”

I reluctantly release Aiden’s arm and he gives me an encouraging smile, before disappearing out the door.

I swallow hard and take a seat in a chair. “I feel like I’m about to be tortured.”

He takes a glass vial out of the cabinet, filled with a clear liquid. “The mind is an amazing thing, really,” he says, shaking the vial. “It really is. It stores things forever, even when we sometimes want to forget… or when outside forces force us to forget.”

“Forget me, for now,” Monarch whispers. “But remember me later, when it’s time.”

I blink. “What?”

“Outside forces, like the Highers,” He clarifies, frowning. “Are you okay? You seem different from the others that come in here.”

“You keep talking about forgetting.” I wrap my fingers around the armrests and rest back. “Are you talking about blackouts, because sometimes it seems like things are missing from life.”

“Like you wake up somewhere and can’t remember how you got there?” He asks, nodding. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Did it happen to you a lot?”

I consider this. “I can’t remember.” But it’s a lie.