Chapter 6 Truth
The dim lighting of the bar flickered as Charlotte stepped inside, water dripping from the borrowed team jacket onto the scuffed wooden floor. Her hands—*my* hands—were clenched into fists at her sides.
"You," she said, staring at Samantha with my blue eyes gone glacial. "You did this to us."
Samantha didn't flinch. She traced a finger along the rim of her glass, the only sign of nerves. "Sit down, both of you. Unless you'd rather stay like this forever."
I stayed standing. So did Charlotte.
Samantha exhaled through her nose. "Fine. You want the full truth? Here it is." She pulled a slim tablet from her bag and turned it toward us. A grainy research paper filled the screen—*"Neural Resonance Synchronization: Experimental Applications in Traumatic Brain Injury."*
"Three years ago," Samantha began, "I funded a private research team to study consciousness transfer. Originally meant for Alzheimer's patients." Her nails tapped the tablet. "Then I met Aiden Cross—the golden boy of racing, driving for the same team that got my brother killed."
Charlotte made a low noise in her throat. "So you what? Decided to play God?"
"I just wanted him *gone* from racing!" Samantha snapped. "A little neural disruption to trigger his tumor symptoms—enough to fail the medical exams. But the night of your crash—" she pointed at me "—you both arrived at the same hospital. Similar brainwave patterns from trauma. The machine latched onto Charlotte as the nearest viable sync point."
The room spun. I gripped the bar to steady myself. "You used experimental tech on us without consent."
Samantha had the decency to look away. "The procedure had *never* done this before." She pulled up schematics—a hulking machine that looked straight out of a sci-fi nightmare. "It's still at the hospital, locked in the basement lab they let me 'donate' to."
Charlotte leaned in. "How do we switch back?"
A beat of silence. Then Samantha said quietly, "We run it in reverse."
"And?"
"The synchronization is unstable. There's a... risk."
My stomach dropped. "What kind of risk?"
Samantha met my gaze. "One of you could lose memories from the swap period. Permanently."
The air left my lungs. Charlotte swayed on her feet.
"You *bitch*," Charlotte whispered.
A sharp laugh escaped Samantha. "Please. Neither of you were supposed to remember *anything*. The machine was meant to leave Aiden confused enough to quit, and Charlotte?" She smirked. "You were so heavily medicated that night, you should've woken up thinking you'd dreamed it all."
I remembered the blue pills in Charlotte's bathroom. The smoothie Samantha kept pushing. "You drugged her."
"Just enough to blur the edges." Samantha shrugged. "Then you two started *communicating.*" She tapped her temple. "The sync strengthened instead of fading. No one anticipated that."
Charlotte lunged. I caught her—my hands on *my* own shoulders, which felt surreal—before she could reach Samantha. "You ruined our lives over *vengeance*?"
Samantha's composure finally cracked. "My brother was *twenty-four* when he died! The team covered it up, called it 'driver error'!" She jabbed a finger at me. "And *you* got his seat!"
The accusation hung in the air. I shook my head. "I never knew."
"Exactly." Samantha's voice turned icy. "So when I heard about your tumor, I thought—let him *really* understand what it's like to lose control of his mind. To have his body betray him." Her gaze flicked to Charlotte. "Then this one walked into the hospital, wailing over some boy—"
Charlotte flinched.
"—and I realized the universe had handed me something even better." Samantha finished her drink. "Aiden loses everything. Charlotte gets to live with being *ordinary* for once."
The cruelty of it stole my breath.
Charlotte stepped forward, using my height to loom over Samantha. "Where's the machine now?"
"Still in the hospital basement. But—"
"No buts." My voice sounded foreign with Charlotte's sharp cadence. "We're doing this tonight."
Samantha hesitated. "There's more you should know—"
A phone buzzed. Charlotte pulled *my* phone from her pocket, eyes scanning a new message. Her face paled.
"What?" I asked.
She turned the screen toward me. A medical alert notification: *"Reminder: Follow-up CT scan for Aiden Cross - Tumor progression assessment."*
And below it, a second notification from the hospital: *"Patient Charlotte Moore - Lorazepam prescription ready for pickup."*
The final piece clicked.
"You've been *tracking* us," I breathed. "The hospital alerts—you set them up to monitor us."
Samantha didn't deny it. "You needed to understand. Both of you." She looked between us. "Aiden—what it's like to lose your identity. Charlotte—what happens when you build your entire life on a lie."
Charlotte made a strangled noise. "You don't know *anything* about my life."
"Don't I?" Samantha arched a brow. "The panic attacks? The secret prescriptions? The way you nearly self-destructed when Daniel left?" She leaned in. "Face it, darling—you were already crumbling. I just gave you a new stage to fall apart on."
Charlotte recoiled like she'd been slapped.
I stepped between them. "Enough. We're switching back. Now."
Samantha studied us. "Even if it means one of you forgets everything since the swap?"
"Yes," Charlotte said immediately.
I hesitated. The thought of losing these weeks—of forgetting the way Charlotte had fought for my career, the way we'd fit together in that rainstorm—sent an unexpected ache through me.
But it was the only way.
I nodded. "Let's go."
---
The hospital basement was colder than I remembered.
Samantha led us through deserted corridors to a locked door marked *Authorized Personnel Only*. Inside, a machine dominated the room—a cross between an MRI scanner and a torture device, all wires and restraints.
Charlotte shuddered. "Jesus."
"Lie down," Samantha ordered, powering up the console. "The reversal requires physical proximity to the original event location."
We took our positions—Charlotte in my body on one slab, me in hers on the adjacent one. Electrodes prickled against my temples.
Samantha adjusted the settings. "The process takes ninety seconds. You'll experience disorientation, possible pain." She hesitated. "When you wake up... one of you may not remember."
Charlotte reached across the gap between us. I took her hand—weird, feeling my own calloused grip from the outside—and squeezed.
"Do it," we said in unison.
Samantha flipped the switch.
The world exploded in white noise and searing pain. I felt myself being ripped apart molecule by molecule, Charlotte's screams blending with mine. Somewhere in the chaos, a single thought crystallized:
*Remember this. Remember* her.
Then—
Darkness.
