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> âOur enemies abroad were distracted by Napoleonâs antics, but our enemies at home were not so encumbered. And so they made their move.â
âWeâve already been over that plan, no.â
Beatrice paced back and forth across the small office on the 47th floor as the sun crept toward its zenith outside the window. I had been there since 7 a.m. after a night spent staring at the ceiling without any sleep, after spending the previous day typing the same four lines of code over and over again at work.
Luckily Beatriceâs supply of vitality buffs was deep and I had sprung back to life immediately after I washed the awful-tasting gummy down with some coffee. I suspected, though, that the next week would be filled with a similar combination of sleepless nights and buff-fueled benders.
âThe Schedule doesnât say anything about the condition of the Guild asset,â I said for what seemed like the tenth time. âSo all we need to do is just-â
âNo, no, no,â said Beatrice, walking over to the workbench, where Rita van Aschâs diaries were propped open. âYou donât understand how the Guild works. We show up with statue Frankie and theyâre more likely to break it into pieces and bludgeon us than thank us. And that doesnât even address the box, which we obviously donât have.â
âBut they already have the box. At least Gilbert does, right? And heâs in the Guild, so why do they think that we have it?â
âI told you, I donât know.â
âI still donât understand why we donât just use the speed buffs to help us sort through this,â I said. âIt worked twice before, so-â
âNo,â said Beatrice. âWe donât have enough of the picture. All that will do is confirm in half a second what we already know, which is nothing. Not until we get the other ring back.â
âFine,â I said. âCan I go then? At least until you hear back from Polly? I would still like to make it into the office today, and tonightâs not exactly going to be a walk in the park.â
After almost a month of silence, of course today was finally the day I heard from Lisa, asking to meet her and Stacy for dinner tonight. I had been dreading this moment ever since the morning after the Met lecture, going over in my head a hundred times what I was going to say. But it was Beatrice who eventually put my mind at ease, when one night in the library a few weeks ago she had slid a small vial across our small table. Her memory serum. Well, a new version of it.
âYou can go if you want,â said Beatrice, her nose buried in one of the diaries. âBut donât you want to test out the serum first? It wasnât really meant for older memories. The modifications I made should fix that, but I canât say for sure.â
âAnd how would I do that?â I said. âAre you offering up yourself as a test subject?â
âYes.â
âOh,â I said. âOK then. What do you want to forget?â
Beatrice slowly closed the diary, pulled out her phone, and brought up a picture, before handing it to me.
âHim,â she said.
âWho is that?â I said, looking at the image of a man with grey hair standing behind a podium at some lecture.
âHeâs the husband of Garrettâs old boss. Was, I should say. He died a few months ago.â
âOh, Iâm sorry. Did you know him well?â
âNot really. I slept with him once to get back at Garrett, who was fucking his boss at the time. Long story.â
âGot it,â I said, not wanting to press further on what was obviously a sensitive subject. But Beatrice kept going.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
âHe and Garrettâs boss got divorced soon after. I didnât care at the time, as Amelia was a real bitch. But then I found out he slowly drank himself to death. Maybe he would have done it anyway, I donât know, but I donât need any more things weighing on my conscious. Especially now.â
She turned away from me and wiped her eyes and I stood there, not knowing if I should comfort her or pretend that she wasnât crying. Eventually, she collected herself and took a can of ginger ale out of the fridge.
âYou have the serum?â Beatrice said.
âYeah,â I replied, removing it from my bag. âBut you never told me how-â
âGood,â she said. âThen letâs do this.â
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âSo,â I said.
âYeah,â said Stacy, who looked at Lisa, waiting for her to start the inquisition. But Lisa refused to take the baton, and instead just stared off into the ether.
âWhy donât I get us drinks?â I said, and got up quickly before either of them could respond. The tiny basement restaurant was packed to the seams and understaffed to boot, so I wedged myself between two groups of finance bros and ordered two rum and cokes and a whiskey.
I pulled out the tiny vial while I waited and gently uncorked it. It smelled sweet, a marked change from Beatriceâs other concoctions, but I had seen how much power even a few drops held.
The bartender brought over the drinks and I handed her a stack of twenties. I pulled the glasses close to me, the vial concealed in the palm of my hand, and slowly added three drops of the serum to all but one of the brown drinks.
âHey,â said a voice.
I looked up and the bartender was nearly on top of me.
âOh, itâs, umm,â I said, fumbling for a plausible explanation. âItâs CBD oil.â
âObviously,â she said, âbut we charge extra for that. Make sure I donât see that again.â
âSorry!â I called as I grabbed the drinks and retreated to the back. I set the glasses down on the table and slid into the booth, my heart pounding. Lisa still had the same forlorn look on her face and I wondered how much she and Stacy actually remembered from that night.
âCheers,â I said, raising my own glass awkwardly. They responded in turn and clinked my glass, before each taking the smallest of sips.
Shit.
âCome on,â I said. âThe more sober we are, the more painful this is going to be.â
I polished off my whiskey in a single gulp and hoped that Lisa and Stacy would follow. The silence that ensued was so painful that I nearly got up to run away, but after the longest minute of my life, both Lisa and Stacy took a second short swig of their drinks.
It was showtime.
âLook, Iâm sorry Iâve been MIA for so long and Iâm sorry I didnât come bail you out after the lecture. I didnât even really know what had happened. You both kind of just ran off suddenly and then Duncan was calling me from and then I dropped my phone and then-â
âAre you fucking serious?â said Lisa, her eyes filled with fury. âThatâs the best youâve got? âMy phone died, sorry?â Did you think we just ⦠you know what, forget it.â
âForget what?â I said, but part of me knew the answer already.
âEverything,â said Stacy, chiming in. âWeâre done with you, Je-â
Stacyâs face suddenly froze mid-word, her eyes unblinking. Lisa too sat there with the same slack-jawed look, as if something deep in her brain had overridden her conscious thought to tell me off. Because thatâs what was happening.
The same thing had happened earlier that day during the test run with Beatrice. Except that was more controlled, more thought-through. She had pictured in her mind the man she was trying to forget. Not just a particular memory, but his entire being. If they met downstairs in ten minutes, she would not recall who he was. If Garrett mentioned his old bossâs husband, she would shrug and say âHmm, donât remember him.â
And it had worked. I didnât want to believe it at first, but it had worked.
So I knew in an instant that the serum had been triggered, not during Lisa and Stacyâs recollection of the night of the lecture, but at their adamant and explicit desire that they wanted to forget me.
It had taken only a minute for the life to flood back into Beatriceâs face. And so I counted down the seconds until my two best friends returned to the waking world without a memory of who I was. What would they think, I wondered, when they saw pictures of the three of us or when someone mentioned me in passing? And wasnât a part of me being erased too? If our memories together were now only in my mind, how could I prove to anyone (and to myself) that they had been real and not just the delusion of a lonely 18-year old looking for a place to belong?
Lisa blinked. And then Stacy did too. They both gave me a look as if they were trying to remember where it was they had seen me once before, but couldnât quite place me.
âIâm sorry,â said Lisa. âBut could we get another round of drinks? This one tastes a bit off.â
I nodded, fighting back the tears that were slowly welling in my eyes, grabbed the two glasses, and started to walk away.
âHey,â said Stacy, and I looked back.
âTake this one too,â she said, pointing to my own empty glass. âIt was here when we sat down.â
I stood there, unmoving, as the full reality of what I had done finally snapped into place.
âHello?â said Lisa, waving her hand to get my attention, before turning back to Stacy. âI swear, the service in this city has been going downhill for years now.â
I grabbed my glass without another word and walked out of their lives.
Next: Jen replaces the erased memories with new ones.