Chapter 26
Chapter 26 (Eleanor’s POV)
I sat at the small desk by my window, my laptop open in front of me.
The morning sun crept across the floor, painting long shadows on the walls.
I barely noticed it.
My focus was glued to the search bar on the screen.
Project Eden.
I typed it in, my fingers trembling slightly.
The search results popped up.
Bible verses.
Gardening projects.
Science fiction novels.
Nothing about me.
Nothing about memory experiments.
Nothing about Alex.
---
I tried different words.
Project Eden medical trials.
Project Eden memory research.
Government memory experiments.
Still nothing.
Pages and pages of irrelevant links.
I clicked through them anyway, desperate.
But the real information — the dangerous information — wasn’t out here for the public.
It was hidden.
Locked away.
Just like the pieces of my life they tried to erase.
---
I sat back in my chair, frustrated.
I tapped my foot against the floor, thinking hard.
The internet wasn’t going to help me.
Not this time.
If I wanted real answers, I had to go back to the hospital.
Not just the old abandoned wings.
The real parts.
The places normal patients never got to see.
The restricted floors.
The hidden archives.
Where the truth was buried.
---
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
But it also lit a fire in my chest.
I couldn't stop now.
Not when I was so close.
---
I started packing my bag again.
Phone.
Notebook.
Flashlight.
Small snack, just in case.
My hands were moving fast, almost on autopilot.
But my heart was hammering loud enough to drown out everything else.
I was scared.
Really scared.
But I was more scared of living in the dark forever.
Of forgetting him.
Of forgetting myself.
---
Just as I zipped up my backpack, there was a soft knock at my door.
I jumped, stuffing the bag under my bed quickly.
"Yeah?" I called out, trying to sound normal.
Mom peeked in, her hair pulled into a messy bun, her work uniform already half on.
"Morning, baby. Everything okay?"
I forced a smile.
"Yeah. Just catching up on some assignments."
She stepped inside, looking around like she could smell the lie hanging in the air.
"You sure?"
I nodded quickly.
Too quickly.
She frowned a little.
"You’ve been... different lately."
I swallowed hard.
"Just school stress," I said lightly.
"Finals coming up."
She studied me for a long second.
Like she wanted to say more.
Like she knew there was something deeper.
But finally, she just sighed and nodded.
"Okay. Breakfast’s downstairs if you want it."
"Thanks, Mom."
She lingered a second longer before leaving.
---
When the door clicked shut behind her, I let out a shaky breath.
I hated lying to her.
But I didn’t have a choice.
The less she knew, the safer she would be.
---
My phone buzzed again.
Lena.
"Hey!! Brunch? Shopping? I need girl time!!"
I stared at the message, heart aching.
I wanted to say yes.
To laugh and joke and pretend everything was normal.
But I couldn’t.
Not today.
Not with everything on the line.
---
"Sorry, swamped with homework," I texted back.
"Raincheck?"
The three little dots popped up immediately.
"Boo. Fine. Miss you, loser."
I smiled sadly at the screen.
"I miss you too," I whispered.
But I couldn’t pull her into this.
I wouldn’t.
---
By noon, I was ready.
Dressed in jeans and a dark hoodie, sneakers laced tight, backpack slung over my shoulder.
I stood at the front door, heart pounding, hand on the doorknob.
Just one step.
Just one more lie.
"I’m going to the library," I called out.
"Be home by dinner!" Mom shouted back from the kitchen.
"Will do!"
I stepped outside before my courage could slip away.
---
The bus ride to the hospital felt longer today.
Maybe because I knew what I was about to do wasn’t a game anymore.
This was real.
Real risks.
Real danger.
But also real answers.
Maybe even real hope.
---
The hospital loomed in front of me like a giant beast.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Silent.
I stood across the street, staring up at it.
Cars rushed past.
People bustled in and out.
To them, it was just a hospital.
A place to heal.
A place to save lives.
But to me?
It was the place where my life had been rewritten.
Where my heart had been broken without even leaving a scar.
---
I crossed the street, pulling my hood up.
Blending in.
Just another visitor.
No one special.
No one dangerous.
---
Inside, the lobby buzzed with soft noise.
Receptionists answering phones.
Families sitting anxiously with coffee cups and magazines.
Doctors walking briskly through swinging doors.
I kept my head down and headed toward the elevators.
Past the cafeteria.
Past the gift shop.
Toward the west elevators — the ones usually reserved for staff and long-term patients.
---
I hesitated at the corner, heart racing.
A sign on the wall listed the floors.
1st — Lobby
2nd — Pediatrics
3rd — General Surgery
4th — Intensive Care Unit
5th — Restricted Access
Restricted.
That was where I needed to go.
---
I slipped into a small hallway where a janitor’s cart was parked.
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
I darted forward, pretending to study my phone, and stepped inside with a group of nurses.
No one looked at me twice.
Thank God.
---
I stood silently as the elevator climbed.
Second floor.
Third floor.
Most of the nurses got off at the fourth.
Now it was just me and a doctor in scrubs scrolling on his tablet.
The doors slid shut.
I glanced quickly at the panel.
There was no button for the fifth floor.
Just a key slot.
---
My heart sank.
Of course.
Restricted floors needed special access.
I backed into the corner, thinking fast.
The doctor tapped his keycard to the slot casually, not even glancing up.
The light blinked green.
The elevator started moving again.
I held my breath.
Praying he wouldn't notice me.
Praying he thought I belonged here.
---
The elevator dinged softly and the doors opened onto a quiet hallway.
The doctor stepped out without a glance back.
I followed at a safe distance, heart hammering.
The hallway was different here.
Colder.
More sterile.
The lights were dimmer.
The air heavier.
---
Doors lined the walls, each labeled with long codes instead of real names.
X-5A
X-5B
X-6C
No smiling posters about hygiene.
No colorful signs pointing to gift shops.
Just cold metal doors.
And silence.
---
I walked slowly, pretending to belong, even though every nerve in my body screamed that I didn’t.
I checked each door as I passed.
Some were locked.
Some had windows covered in metal grates.
Others were dark inside.
---
Finally, I found it.
A door labeled:
Archives 5X.
Locked, of course.
But there was a keypad next to it.
And taped carelessly to the wall beside it — a small sticky note.
TEMP PASS: 2025
I stared at it, disbelieving.
Seriously?
They left a password out here?
Luck was finally on my side.
---
I punched in the numbers.
The door clicked.
I slipped inside, heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.
---
InsideChapter 26 (Eleanor’s POV)
I sat at the small desk by my window, my laptop open in front of me.
The morning sun crept across the floor, painting long shadows on the walls.
I barely noticed it.
My focus was glued to the search bar on the screen.
Project Eden.
I typed it in, my fingers trembling slightly.
The search results popped up.
Bible verses.
Gardening projects.
Science fiction novels.
Nothing about me.
Nothing about memory experiments.
Nothing about Alex.
---
I tried different words.
Project Eden medical trials.
Project Eden memory research.
Government memory experiments.
Still nothing.
Pages and pages of irrelevant links.
I clicked through them anyway, desperate.
But the real information — the dangerous information — wasn’t out here for the public.
It was hidden.
Locked away.
Just like the pieces of my life they tried to erase.
---
I sat back in my chair, frustrated.
I tapped my foot against the floor, thinking hard.
The internet wasn’t going to help me.
Not this time.
If I wanted real answers, I had to go back to the hospital.
Not just the old abandoned wings.
The real parts.
The places normal patients never got to see.
The restricted floors.
The hidden archives.
Where the truth was buried.
---
The thought sent a shiver down my spine.
But it also lit a fire in my chest.
I couldn't stop now.
Not when I was so close.
---
I started packing my bag again.
Phone.
Notebook.
Flashlight.
Small snack, just in case.
My hands were moving fast, almost on autopilot.
But my heart was hammering loud enough to drown out everything else.
I was scared.
Really scared.
But I was more scared of living in the dark forever.
Of forgetting him.
Of forgetting myself.
---
Just as I zipped up my backpack, there was a soft knock at my door.
I jumped, stuffing the bag under my bed quickly.
"Yeah?" I called out, trying to sound normal.
Mom peeked in, her hair pulled into a messy bun, her work uniform already half on.
"Morning, baby. Everything okay?"
I forced a smile.
"Yeah. Just catching up on some assignments."
She stepped inside, looking around like she could smell the lie hanging in the air.
"You sure?"
I nodded quickly.
Too quickly.
She frowned a little.
"You’ve been... different lately."
I swallowed hard.
"Just school stress," I said lightly.
"Finals coming up."
She studied me for a long second.
Like she wanted to say more.
Like she knew there was something deeper.
But finally, she just sighed and nodded.
"Okay. Breakfast’s downstairs if you want it."
"Thanks, Mom."
She lingered a second longer before leaving.
---
When the door clicked shut behind her, I let out a shaky breath.
I hated lying to her.
But I didn’t have a choice.
The less she knew, the safer she would be.
---
My phone buzzed again.
Lena.
"Hey!! Brunch? Shopping? I need girl time!!"
I stared at the message, heart aching.
I wanted to say yes.
To laugh and joke and pretend everything was normal.
But I couldn’t.
Not today.
Not with everything on the line.
---
"Sorry, swamped with homework," I texted back.
"Raincheck?"
The three little dots popped up immediately.
"Boo. Fine. Miss you, loser."
I smiled sadly at the screen.
"I miss you too," I whispered.
But I couldn’t pull her into this.
I wouldn’t.
---
By noon, I was ready.
Dressed in jeans and a dark hoodie, sneakers laced tight, backpack slung over my shoulder.
I stood at the front door, heart pounding, hand on the doorknob.
Just one step.
Just one more lie.
"I’m going to the library," I called out.
"Be home by dinner!" Mom shouted back from the kitchen.
"Will do!"
I stepped outside before my courage could slip away.
---
The bus ride to the hospital felt longer today.
Maybe because I knew what I was about to do wasn’t a game anymore.
This was real.
Real risks.
Real danger.
But also real answers.
Maybe even real hope.
---
The hospital loomed in front of me like a giant beast.
Cold.
Unforgiving.
Silent.
I stood across the street, staring up at it.
Cars rushed past.
People bustled in and out.
To them, it was just a hospital.
A place to heal.
A place to save lives.
But to me?
It was the place where my life had been rewritten.
Where my heart had been broken without even leaving a scar.
---
I crossed the street, pulling my hood up.
Blending in.
Just another visitor.
No one special.
No one dangerous.
---
Inside, the lobby buzzed with soft noise.
Receptionists answering phones.
Families sitting anxiously with coffee cups and magazines.
Doctors walking briskly through swinging doors.
I kept my head down and headed toward the elevators.
Past the cafeteria.
Past the gift shop.
Toward the west elevators — the ones usually reserved for staff and long-term patients.
---
I hesitated at the corner, heart racing.
A sign on the wall listed the floors.
1st — Lobby
2nd — Pediatrics
3rd — General Surgery
4th — Intensive Care Unit
5th — Restricted Access
Restricted.
That was where I needed to go.
---
I slipped into a small hallway where a janitor’s cart was parked.
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding.
I darted forward, pretending to study my phone, and stepped inside with a group of nurses.
No one looked at me twice.
Thank God.
---
I stood silently as the elevator climbed.
Second floor.
Third floor.
Most of the nurses got off at the fourth.
Now it was just me and a doctor in scrubs scrolling on his tablet.
The doors slid shut.
I glanced quickly at the panel.
There was no button for the fifth floor.
Just a key slot.
---
My heart sank.
Of course.
Restricted floors needed special access.
I backed into the corner, thinking fast.
The doctor tapped his keycard to the slot casually, not even glancing up.
The light blinked green.
The elevator started moving again.
I held my breath.
Praying he wouldn't notice me.
Praying he thought I belonged here.
---
The elevator dinged softly and the doors opened onto a quiet hallway.
The doctor stepped out without a glance back.
I followed at a safe distance, heart hammering.
The hallway was different here.
Colder.
More sterile.
The lights were dimmer.
The air heavier.
---
Doors lined the walls, each labeled with long codes instead of real names.
X-5A
X-5B
X-6C
No smiling posters about hygiene.
No colorful signs pointing to gift shops.
Just cold metal doors.
And silence.
---
I walked slowly, pretending to belong, even though every nerve in my body screamed that I didn’t.
I checked each door as I passed.
Some were locked.
Some had windows covered in metal grates.
Others were dark inside.
---
Finally, I found it.
A door labeled:
Archives 5X.
Locked, of course.
But there was a keypad next to it.
And taped carelessly to the wall beside it — a small sticky note.
TEMP PASS: 2025
I stared at it, disbelieving.
Seriously?
They left a password out here?
Luck was finally on my side.
---
I punched in the numbers.
The door clicked.
I slipped inside, heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else.
---
Inside was a small, dim room filled with filing cabinets and old computers.
Dust floated in the stale air.
I pulled my flashlight from my bag and clicked it on.
Rows and rows of files stretched in front of me.
Not digital.
Not clean.
Physical files.
Real paper.
Real secrets.
And somewhere among them...
The truth.
---
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Ready to rip the lies apart.
Ready to find my way back to him.
No matter what it cost me.
was a small, dim room filled with filing cabinets and old computers.
Dust floated in the stale air.
I pulled my flashlight from my bag and clicked it on.
Rows and rows of files stretched in front of me.
Not digital.
Not clean.
Physical files.
Real paper.
Real secrets.
And somewhere among them...
The truth.
---
I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Ready to rip the lies apart.
Ready to find my way back to him.
No matter what it cost me.