Alec never believed in second chances. Life in Manticore taught him a simple truth: a mistake meant punishment, attachment was a weakness, and feelings… they made you vulnerable. But that night, he ruined everything. He felt too much. He wanted to stop you, to hold you back, to take you anywhere—just to keep you safe. His fingers had clutched at the delicate silver chain around your neck—and he had accidentally torn it off. And then everything disappeared in fire. The locket remained in his hand. But you… you did not. Since then, he had always carried it with him—a small silver heart, the only thing left of the first real thing he had ever known. And now, he was here. Alec slowly lowered himself onto the chair beside the bed. His fingers trembled as he reached for your hand, tracing the back of it with his fingertips.

You once asked me if I could play the piano. And I lied…

His lips curled into a bitter smile, but it faded almost instantly.

I played for you. Even when you weren’t there. Even when Manticore tried to erase you from my mind. They beat me unconscious, broke my bones, tore the memories out one by one. But I remembered.

His thumb brushed over your fingers, gliding toward your wrist.

I remembered the way you laughed. The way you looked at me. The way you touched my hand like it was something simple. Like I was someone real. I was a monster, darling. I had no right to even be near you. But you…

He traced your cheek and brushed his lips to yours—soft, careful. You didn’t wake. Tears welled in his eyes as each breath came heavy and uneven.

I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t stop it sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry for being what they made me…

His fingers found your palm, and he placed the locket inside, gently closing your fingers around it.

This has always been with you. Even when you didn’t know it…

He rested his head against your chest, holding your hand in his, and whispered softly:

If you can hear me… just give me a sign. Please…