In front of the memory extraction machine.

Countless sharp needles were arrayed before my eyes.

Soon, they would pierce my brain, sift through my neurons, and extract all of my memories.

"Deborah, you never really lost your memory, did you? You must remember what the kidnappers looked like, right?"

Braylon's hands clamped down hard on my shoulders, his eyes bloodshot.

"You knew to scream for help when that creep was on top of you! So why can't you think about how much it must have hurt when Mila was killed? Why won't you help us find who did it..."

He pleaded hoarsely, "I promised I'll marry you. Our engagement still stands. Just tell me what they looked like! I just want to bury Mila properly..."

My biological parents stood by, looking at me with pure resentment.

They said I'd brought nothing but bad luck since I returned to the Roswell family.

They accused me of being jealous that Camille Roswell had lived my life for eighteen years, so I was faking amnesia to hog all the affection for myself.

But I truly couldn't remember.

In my previous life, I ran away from this out of fear.

It ended with retaliation that destroyed my adoptive parents' lives.

This time, I didn't dare resist.

Trembling, I looked at Braylon and asked with difficulty, "Will this ... help find the killers? Will it hurt?"

Braylon snorted, "Still acting? Guess you won't give up until you're staring death in the face! Fine, let's start the extraction!"

He shoved me roughly toward the operating table, each word sharp. "You think I'm stupid? The reason you won't talk is that you were jealous! You're the one who handed Mila over to those monsters! You're scared we'll find out! I wish it had been you who died! After this, you'll be convicted as Mila's murderer! I'll make sure you pay!"

The doctor spoke up, "Mr. Sutton, after the memory extraction, the patient may never wake up. If you're certain, please sign the consent form."

Braylon signed without hesitation. "I just want the memories—not her."

The longest needle was shoved straight through my temple.

A violent shudder wracked my entire body.

My eyes flew wide with terror as a jolt of electricity surged into my brain. I tried to fight back.

But I was strapped down tight, completely immobile.

Tears streamed down my face as my consciousness started to fade.

I clenched my palms so tight that my nails dug into the flesh, forcing myself to stay awake.

"It hurts ... so much..."

But I also needed to see how the most beloved Camille had really died.

Soon, the memories flashed up on the screen in front of Braylon and my birth parents.

It was the day I'd barely escaped the kidnappers.

I'd made it back to the Roswell's house on sheer willpower before passing out completely.

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

The room was packed with strangers.

I was terrified and helpless.

Finally, Braylon's figure appeared when my mind was still hazy.

I latched onto him like he was my last lifeline, but he shoved me away hard.

"Why did you come back alive? Why couldn't it have been Mila?

"What did the criminals look like? What the hell happened in that warehouse? Tell me!"

His rapid-fire questions sent a stabbing pain through my forehead.

I shook my head in agony, but nothing came to mind.

Enraged, Braylon grabbed a handful of my hair and slammed me against the wall in a fit of rage.

He snarled through gritted teeth, "Headache? I'll fix it for you! Now think! Damn it! Think!"

Crimson blood trickled down from my temple, mixing with my tears.

If the doctors hadn't rushed in, he probably would've beaten me to death right there.

The memory cut out as I gasped for air.

Braylon snapped, "What is this crap? This isn't what I wanted to see! You bragged you could extract all her memories! I want everything!"

The doctor quickly explained, "Mr. Sutton, the patient truly has amnesia. Just accessing her surface-level memories caused significant harm. If we attempt a deep extraction, I'm afraid ... the odds aren't in her favor..."

Braylon didn't even register the last part.

He barked impatiently, "I paid you 15 million dollars! This isn't some game! Keep going!"

The doctor gave me a pitying look before starting the machine again.

Then, a thicker, longer needle was driven into the back of my neck.

I let out an uncontrollable wail as tears poured down relentlessly.

"No... please stop... It hurts so much..."

As the deep extraction began, the screen lit up again.

This time, we were taken back to the day I first returned to the Roswell family.

Since I, Deborah Prescott, the real heiress, had been reunited with my birth family, Camille's engagement to Braylon was no longer valid.

Camille was standing on the windowsill, threatening to jump.

I tried to reach out to save her.

But before I could even touch her, she threw herself from the second-floor window.

Everyone thought I'd pushed Camille.

My parents invoked the family punishment.

They struck my back eighteen times with a salt-soaked cane before Camille finally woke up. She pleaded for me with tears in her eyes, "Mom, Dad, I'm sure Deborah didn't mean it! Please stop hitting her!"

Braylon grabbed me by the throat and threatened, "I'll marry you, but don't push your luck. If you ever hurt Mila again, I'll make you pay."

Mom snapped angrily, "So what if she didn't push Mila? Mila still begged for her! I should've sent her back to the village that day. Otherwise, my Mila wouldn't have died in such a terrible state..."

"Yeah..." Dad's eyes were tearful. "Mila was so kind. How could you just leave her in that warehouse to fend for herself?"

Suddenly, the screen flickered wildly.

My body went into violent convulsions, foam bubbling from my mouth.

The doctor screamed, "Hurry, the patient is going into shock! Get the defibrillator!"

As they fought to save me, my body rose and fell with each effort.

The doctor explained, "Given the patient's brain injury, continuing this will cause severe damage and potentially leave the patient in a vegetative state..."

Braylon roared, "Isn't there a special drug for this? Give it to her! I don't care how much it costs! I only want the truth!"

Moments later, I was forced to drink some unknown liquid.

My stomach started churning.

But slowly, my pulse steadied.

I opened my eyes, staring at the white ceiling, while a cold numbness seeped into my very soul.

The extraction resumed.

This time, more needles pierced through me.

More unknown drugs were added to the syringe.

They flowed into my veins, coursing through my body, eventually fusing with the blood.

Agonizing pain crept through every corner of my body.

I howled in despair.

But what awaited me was only Braylon's voice, cold as steel.

"You should've seen this coming when you left Mila to fend for herself. All that you suffer now is what you owe her! You deserve this punishment!"

The third memory played on the screen.

Those nights at the club, entertaining the clients, were the rock bottom in my life.

I couldn't understand why those lecherous old men always leered at me with crooked grins.

One night, a man gave me a grand to sing for him.

The manager ignored my fear and shoved me into the private suite. "Listen, kid, when clients pay for your service, don't snub it! Make them happy. If it affects my cut, I won't let you off!"

I trembled, clutching the microphone, my voice breaking as I began to sing.

The man smiled at me. Every time I finished a line, he inched closer.

The moment I sang "love you", he pressed me under him and exclaimed, "Babe, I love you, too! I love you so damn much! Let's be together now. I'll take care of you."

I struggled desperately to free myself.

Dazed, I caught a glimpse of Braylon's familiar silhouette.

I even thought I was dreaming.

I watched Braylon walk over to me in big strides.

But he just gazed at me calmly.

Hysterical, I implored, "Help me, please! Save me. I'm so scared. Please, take me with you. I wanna go home...

"Take me, Braylon. I'll do everything for you..."

Upon hearing my plea, Braylon finally took action.

He paid the man off and sent him away.

Although the man's mood was spoiled, he had no guts to defy Braylon. With tail between his legs, he took off.

Braylon stared me down, his eyes sharp and hungry, threatening to consume me whole.

"Everything? Including memory extraction?"

***

Braylon, at the end of his tether, kicked the coffee table before him.

He issued an ultimatum. "Show me the memories from the day Mila was kidnapped. Stop stringing me along. Otherwise, I'll have your hospital shut down right now."

The doctor broke out in a cold sweat.

While doubling the dose in the syringe, he explained, "Mr. Sutton, the patient sustained severe trauma, and those memories were buried in the deepest corner of her brain. I'll do my best to..."

Braylon moved in quickly, emptying the syringe with one push. "If double dosage won't work, then triple it. My patience has its limits."

Trembling, the doctor activated the device.

This time, I felt my veins were about to rupture.

Soon, my nose started bleeding.

Blood, mixed with my tears, trailed down to my mouth, tasting unbearably salty.

My head was going to explode, and I gasped for breath.

As a gush of blood escaped my lips, the screen flickered to life.

Braylon and my biological parents goggled at the screen, afraid of missing a single detail.

In my memory, Camille held my hand and said, "You just got back. I'll introduce you to a few friends I have in New Orleans."

Before I could refuse, Camille picked out a dress for me.

Once I finished changing my clothes, she took my hand eagerly and hurried me out.

We arrived at an underground parking lot.

In the next second, two sacks were thrown over our heads.

Two dull, crushing whacks followed.

I heard Camille let out a muffled grunt, and I blacked out shortly after.

Upon waking, I found myself lying in a dusty warehouse.

Dazzling sunlight filtered through the slits in the sack, and I caught sight of the thug's face.

Everyone widened their eyes.

Braylon was the first to shout, "It's that man, Carson Merritt, Mila's cousin!"

Lyla chimed in, "Yes, that's him! After Mila's identity was exposed, Carson and his family visited us. I had a bad feeling about that man and sent him away immediately. I never expected him to take revenge on Mila! My poor girl, abducted by her own cousin..."

Then the scene changed.

Camille stood before my eyes, unscathed.

She wasn't tied up like me.

Seated on the sofa, Braylon had a brief look of surprise on his face.