Liam looked surprised. His ash-grey eyes widened for a moment before settling into a heavy, sombre gaze.

“Is there a magic that transfers memories?” I asked.

“There is,” he replied.

“Can I choose which memories to give?” I inquired further.

Liam nodded, his eyes filled with concern for me, but also with respect. I knew he wouldn’t forcibly drag me away. Though he might want to, he was patiently waiting for me to speak.

When I requested the use of magic, Owen glanced at Liam anxiously, but Liam ignored his look and extended his hand to me.

“Your hand, please, Jane.”

A familiar, comforting snap sound echoed. Liam’s eyes briefly turned a clear, pale lavender. Light emanated from his palm, and I placed my hand on it, smiling.

“…Please, don’t hate me too much.”

Why are we always afraid of being hated before we reveal our secrets? I found it curious even as I spoke.

Liam whispered, “I won’t,” but I was still anxious. I feared he would feel betrayed, that he would rage at me for deceiving him while wearing Jane’s shell.

‘So, that’s it.’

Finally, my emotions crystallised.

‘Yes, I truly…’

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see Liam’s expression. I was scared. At the same time, memories flashed across my mind.

The memories I shared with him were nothing significant. Scenarios I had imagined while waiting for him, hypotheses that hadn’t occurred yet. Images of me muttering to myself about how to save me, explaining exactly what he needed to do.

‘Even if I escape this place, it won’t matter. Clara uses magic too. It seems like her magic is binding me here, probably spread across the entire area. You’ll need to break it. I’ll stall for time here. Focus on breaking the magic rather than saving me. And…’

The memory of myself was murmuring into the void.

What if he sees me as a monster who stole Jane’s body? These thoughts had cluttered my mind while speaking. But Liam Moore ‘needed’ to know.

‘…I’m sorry. I’m not the Jane you knew.’

Liam’s hand trembled as he held mine. But since the memory transfer was still ongoing, he couldn’t pull away.

I transferred all my memories of Clara’s actions to subdue me, the absurd demands she made in the name of ‘that person,’ and everything that had happened since I was kidnapped. When I slowly opened my eyes, a pale Liam was staring at me with a twisted expression.

Liam Moore bit his trembling lips and looked at me with wavering eyes, as if demanding an explanation. His thick eyebrows were furrowed deeply.

When I pulled my hand away in fear, he grasped it again. I didn’t have the courage to meet his eyes, so I bowed my head. Yet, he still held my hand firmly, as if deciding to leave the confusion behind.

“How many times has that woman…?”

Ah. I felt my strength draining away.

If blind faith could kill a person, Liam Moore would have been buried six feet under long ago. Instead of reacting with anger, blame, or even leaving me behind, he was inquiring about Clara Barnum’s tortures.

Even though I had risked revealing the notebook’s function to show him I wasn’t ordinary, he didn’t seem to care.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

Liam carefully examined my wrist. His gaze lingered on my neck. Once he confirmed there were no scars on my body, he sighed in relief and cautiously spoke.

“What will you do after breaking the magic?”

“I have to confront Clara. At least in one way, I have the upper hand.”

“…The notebook.”

Liam now recognized the notebook.

Previously, NPCs didn’t notice me using the notebook. The moments I used it were blank, as if they never happened. But sometimes, they retained the awareness that ‘something was about to happen.’

“I’m sorry.”

When I mumbled in a small voice, Liam blinked. He seemed momentarily puzzled by what I was apologising for.

“For what?”

“Because, I…”

“I knew.”

A jolt ran through me. My words caught in my throat. Since when? How? Why? The words melted in my mouth, unable to form sentences.

His words were both cruel and gentle. It was paradoxical how the sharpest weapon a person has is their tongue.

“I never resented you, not even once.”

“But, how…”

How did you know?

I had all of Jane’s memories intact and had adapted perfectly to life in London within a few days. No one noticed my change, except Clara Barnum!

So how did you notice?

“You always said you’d tell me next time.”

Next time.

Recalling those words sent chills down my spine. It felt like someone had poured cold Thames water down my back. I didn’t know if it was fear or shock, but my body trembled.

“How did you, why…”

Liam gave a sorrowful smile. Was this the same man who had ruthlessly interrogated me on the train? Or had we come to know each other too well in such a short time? I couldn’t tell. His fingers rested on my cheek.

“I thought it was a hallucination, but the memories you gave me made everything clear.”

Silence followed. I opened my mouth in shock, closed it again, and repeated the cycle. Liam waited for me patiently, full of understanding. Only Owen watched us uneasily and then raised his voice.

“Hey, what the hell are you two talking about? Next time? What next time? Aren’t you taking her out of here?”

“I will take her out,” Liam replied.

“But not this time,” I interjected, cutting him off.

“What is this…”

But there was no time to explain to Owen. Clara would come. I hadn’t escaped, and too much time had passed.

‘If Clara kills me in this state?’

Everything I planned, everything I told Liam, would fall into Clara’s hands.

I can’t let that happen. Not after coming this far.

“I can endure it.”

I whispered. Liam’s eyes widened. I firmly drove the nail in again. Using goodwill and trust to inflict pain. But Liam Moore was the kind of person who could embrace pain as a friend. I demanded.

“Erase my memories. Everything I gave you and our conversation now.”

“…”

“Trust me. Can you do it?”

Liam Moore silently stared at me. His pale eyes, under sharply defined eyebrows, seemed ready to shed tears but slowly nodded.

Owen Cassfire grabbed Liam’s shoulder in shock.

“You know it’s forbidden, right?”

“…Of course.”

Owen watched in stunned silence as Liam Moore reached out to me. He looked desolate. Who would be happy to see their friend break a taboo? But it would be okay. Soon, all of this would be as if it never happened.

His large hand touched my forehead. I closed my eyes.

* * *

“Jane.” The voice calling me made me open my eyes.

It was Liam Moore. Ah. We meet again. The excitement was less this time. We’ve met twice more since then. Liam always greets me anew. There was even a time when I got shot while escaping with him. Huh? Did I doze off? Strangely, my memory was hazy.

Liam Moore looked unusually troubled, not hiding it as he spoke to me.

“I did as you asked.”

What?

Hearing that, my expression fell apart. My dumbfounded face was reflected in his eyes. Liam’s hand naturally brushed my cheek and then fell away.

I hadn’t given him any instructions during our two meetings.

My head spun. What? Have we met more times? Did I lose my mind? But I couldn’t grasp it.

I slowly retraced the parts I remembered. For some reason, it seemed I had something to do whenever I met him. But I couldn’t recall it. All my memories after Clara’s departure were gone, as if someone had deliberately erased that part.

My mind concluded that through this unnatural blank, I had accomplished something, though I didn’t know what.

‘Ah, I see. I did it.’

Finally, I relaxed.

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