I walked into the house, expecting Terry to be terrified with worry. The love of his life had been abducted for several days, right? Except no, he thought I’d gone on a sudden trip to visit my sister again. Because apparently I had texted and called him about it. I didn’t remember any of that, of course, but I was starting to get how little that really meant.

Now I understand more. They don’t care about the money. That’s just a trick to make you think you are dealing with a business, dealing with something normal you can fight against or bargain with. I think they do want the new customers, though I don’t really know why. What I do know is what happened after I gave them you.

I hated to do it. I’ve always liked you, and Terry loved you like a brother. Hell, way more than he loved his actual family. But after he died so suddenly, I was broken and desperate. They left me alone for a while after that first bad memory, but then Mr. Aller contacted me again, telling me that “my obligations were still not fulfilled.”

So I lied to you. Tricked you into going. Probably damned myself by betraying you and the love Terry had for you.

The next weekend I woke up screaming, remembering how I was driving the car that killed my mother and father last year.

I checked, and my father really did die last year. The records say he died of a heart attack while having surgery. There’s no indication that he was in a car wreck. There’s also no indication that my mother died at all.

See, I haven’t seen my mother since I was six. She was a junkie, and when she started using around me, my dad threw her out. She could be dead for all I know, but I don’t have any other memories of her since then except for the night that I killed them both in that wreck.

That’s the trick of it, you see. I know logically that the memory has to be false. Has to be implanted. But my brain and my heart don’t really believe that. The memory is too strong and feels too real, especially without any of the “tint markers” the first one had. I feel like what I know has to be true and what I know is true are two different things. And that difference is tearing me apart.

****

“The only thing I can suggest is running. They will probably still find you—they somehow found me even though I was hiding out after setting you up—but it’s worth a shot I guess.” I could tell from her weary expression that she knew it wasn’t worth much at all.

“Why didn’t you go to the police or something?”