Liam first discovered how to breach someone else's memory space by accident.
He'd been practicing the standard mindfulness exercises—the ones they taught in elementary school, right after reading and writing. Close your eyes, breathe deeply, and picture your personal constellation of memories floating in the darkness behind your eyelids. Each memory a glowing orb, pulsing with different colors depending on its emotional weight.
Everyone's memory space was supposed to be sacred and impenetrable. That was the first rule of modern society: your memories were yours alone to revisit and reflect upon. The neural barriers that kept spaces separate were supposedly unbreakable.
But that Thursday afternoon, while floating through his own memories in his apartment's meditation room, Liam felt a strange pull—like a current in a previously calm ocean. His consciousness drifted toward the apartment next door, where his best friend Sarah lived. And suddenly, he was there, inside her memory space.
The sensation was dizzying. Sarah's memories looked different from his—where his were perfect spheres, hers were geometric crystals, each facet showing a different perspective of the same moment. He knew he should leave immediately. This was wrong. Illegal. A violation of the most basic human right of mental privacy.
But then he saw it: a crystal pulsing with an angry red light, its edges sharp and threatening. The date stamp read exactly one year ago—the night Sarah's husband Michael had died in what was ruled an accidental fall.
Liam had helped Sarah through the aftermath of Michael's death. He'd been there when she received the news, held her through countless crying sessions, helped her pack up Michael's things. He thought he knew everything about that night.
The crystal's pull was irresistible. As his consciousness touched its surface, the memory exploded into vivid life around him.
He was in Sarah's kitchen. She and Michael were arguing—about him. About the time Liam and Sarah were spending together.
"He's my best friend!" Sarah's voice echoed through the crystalline space. "You're being paranoid."
"Am I?" Michael's face was red with anger. "I see how he looks at you. How you look at him."
"You're drunk. Again." Sarah turned away, gripping the kitchen counter. "I can't do this anymore."
Michael grabbed her arm. "You're not leaving me. Not for him. Not for anyone."
What happened next played out in horrible clarity. The push. Michael stumbling backward. His head hitting the corner of the marble countertop. The shocked silence. The blood.
Sarah's voice, shaking: "It was an accident. It was an accident. It was an accident."
Liam ripped himself out of the memory, tumbling back into his own space with such force that he fell out of his meditation chair onto the floor. His whole body was shaking.
Sarah had lied. To the police. To Michael's family. To him. She'd carried this secret for a year, letting everyone believe Michael's death was just a tragic accident rather than the result of a domestic dispute.
And it was about him. Michael's jealousy, his suspicions about Liam and Sarah's relationship—suspicions that weren't entirely unfounded, if Liam was honest with himself.
The mandatory evening meditation bell chimed through the building. Sarah would be entering her memory space now, just on the other side of the wall. She had no idea her private memories had been breached, that her darkest secret was no longer hers alone.
Liam sat in the growing darkness, facing an impossible choice. Reveal that he'd violated the sacred law of memory privacy and destroy his friendship with Sarah? Or carry the weight of this knowledge alone, becoming complicit in her deception?
Through the wall, he could hear Sarah's meditation chair creak as she sat down. In his mind, he could picture her preparing to sort through her memories, unaware that someone else had witnessed the truth she'd tried so hard to bury.
The red crystal of that fatal night pulsed in his consciousness like a warning beacon. Some memories, he realized, were never meant to be shared. But now that he'd seen it, there was no going back. The only question was: what would he do with this forbidden knowledge?123Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡex5S00f80S
In the quiet of his meditation room, surrounded by the gentle glow of his own memories, Liam made his decision.
He stood up, walked to his door, and crossed the hallway to Sarah's apartment. His hand shook as he knocked on her door, knowing that what he was about to say would change everything between them forever.
Sarah opened the door, still dressed in her work clothes, her meditation session interrupted. "Liam? What's wrong?"
He took a deep breath. "We need to talk about Michael."
The color drained from her face, and in that moment, Liam knew she could see the truth in his eyes—he had been inside her memory space. He had seen everything.
"How?" she whispered, her voice breaking.
"I don't know," he said softly. "But I think it's time we both stopped hiding from the truth."
She stepped back, letting him into her apartment. The door closed behind them with a final-sounding click, and the real story began.123Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbkjqRui42L
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