Chapitre 8: Chapter 8

Just then, a message popped up in their group chat.

[Damn! Guess what I saw on my way here! That's Lucille, right? But who's the guy carrying her?!]

Oscar opened it.

It was a photo taken at the hospital entrance.

Lucille was being carried princess-style by a man.

It had rained that day. The lighting was dim, and the man's back was partially blocked by a passerby.

You couldn't see who it was.

But Lucille's profile was easy to recognize.

Oscar froze in place.

Then sneered, slamming his glass down hard.

"She's getting bolder. What, trying to make me jealous by flaunting another man?

Doesn't she fear I'll think she's dirty once I get my memory back and leave her for good?"

His friends exchanged glances silently, not daring to speak.

After we left the hospital, I could already walk on my own.

But the moment we stepped outside, my phone buzzed.

I opened the message.

It came from a number that had been silent for Three years.

[Lucille, my memory's back.]