Selina's fingers tightened around the file.
"…Because I was there that night, Selina."
The words didn't just land.
They fractured something inside her.
For a moment, the world around her blurred—glass walls, city lights, the silence of the Blackwood office—all collapsing into a single point of impossible meaning.
"No," she said immediately, voice lower than she intended. "That's not possible."
Lucian didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't correct her.
He just watched her reaction—carefully, like he was confirming something he already feared.
Selina took a step back instinctively.
"You're lying."
The words came out sharper this time.
But Lucian's expression didn't change.
And that was what unsettled her the most.
Because liars reacted.
They denied.
They explained.
They defended themselves.
Lucian Blackwood did none of that.
Instead, he spoke quietly.
"I wish I was."
Silence swallowed the room.
Selina's heartbeat became unsteady.
Her mind fought against the idea, rejecting it instantly.
Because she remembered that night too clearly.
The rain.
The rooftop.
The fall.
And—
those silver eyes.
Her grip loosened slightly on the file.
"…You were there?" she repeated slowly.
Lucian's gaze darkened.
"Yes."
A pause.
Then softer—
"I saw you fall."
Selina's breath caught.
The words didn't make sense.
Because in her memory… there was no one.
No witness.
No voice.
No presence.
Only emptiness before darkness.
Her voice dropped. "That's impossible… no one was there."
Lucian took a slow step closer.
Not threatening.
Not forceful.
But inevitable.
"I was," he said simply. "But you didn't see me."
Selina felt something cold creep up her spine.
"You're talking like you—"
"Like I remember more than this life?" he finished.
Her silence answered him.
Lucian's eyes softened for a fraction of a second.
Then returned to something heavier.
Something broken.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Because I do."
The room felt too small suddenly.
Selina stepped back again, trying to steady her thoughts.
"If you're saying what I think you're saying—this is insane."
Lucian didn't deny it.
He only said:
"You died once, Selina Vale."
Her name felt different when he said it.
Heavier.
More personal.
Selina's voice trembled slightly despite her effort to control it.
"…And you think you were there?"
Lucian's gaze held hers.
"I don't think," he said softly. "I know."
A long silence stretched between them.
Outside the glass wall, the city moved normally.
Unaware.
Unbothered.
As if reality itself wasn't breaking inside this room.
Selina swallowed hard.
"If you knew me before… then explain this," she said quietly. "Explain why I don't remember you at all."
Something flickered in Lucian's expression.
Pain.
Brief.
Controlled.
Then gone.
"You're not supposed to," he said.
Her brows tightened. "That's not an answer."
"It is," he replied. "Just not the one you want."
Selina looked down at the file in her hands again, trying to ground herself.
Information.
Facts.
Logic.
But nothing about him felt logical.
And that terrified her more than anything else.
Lucian's voice lowered.
"Everything is unstable again," he said. "That's why you're remembering fragments."
Selina looked up sharply.
"Fragments of what?"
Lucian hesitated.
For the first time—
he looked uncertain.
Then quietly:
"Me."
The word settled heavily between them.
Selina felt something shift in her chest again.
Not memory.
Not recognition.
Something worse.
Familiarity without reason.
She stepped back once more.
"I don't understand you," she said.
Lucian's gaze followed her instantly.
"I never wanted you to," he replied.
That stopped her.
Selina frowned slightly. "What does that mean?"
Silence.
Then Lucian finally spoke again—low, controlled, dangerous in its calmness.
"It means if you understood everything," he said, "you would hate me more than anyone else in your life."
The words lingered.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Selina's fingers slowly loosened from the file.
For the first time since entering the Blackwood building—
she wasn't sure if the danger around her was the world…
or the man standing in front of her.