"What you are describing, Mrs Wolfe, is called selective dissociative amnesia," the doctor said gently.

Kira and Jessica were sitting side by side in the quiet doctor’s office at Aethelwulf Centralis. The room smelled faintly of peppermint and antiseptic. Soft morning light filtered through the half-closed blinds, casting gentle stripes across the wooden desk.

She had just finished recounting the flashes—the hands on her throat, the shove on the balcony, the smell of kerosene. Talking about it felt like pulling shards of glass out of her chest.

The doctor, an older human woman with kind eyes and silver threads in her dark hair, had listened without interrupting. When Kira finally fell silent, the doctor leaned forward slightly and told her what her condition was.

Kira’s brows furrowed in confusion at the clinical words. "Selective?"

"Yes," the doctor said, leaning back in her chair. "It happens when the mind protects itself from pain that is too much to bear. It’s a survival mechanism. You may remember some details of the events — the fear, the smoke, the feeling of hands around your throat, the falling sensation — but important parts stay hidden. Most often, the identity of the person who caused the harm, or the full emotions connected to it, becomes locked away. It’s common in children who suffer at the hands of a parent."

Kira felt a chill crawl up her spine. "But why? If he was trying to kill me, why wouldn’t I want to remember his face so I could run away?"

"Because you were a child," the doctor replied. "A child depends on their parent for everything—food, shelter, a sense of belonging. To accept that the person who is supposed to protect you is the one trying to end you... that is too much for a young brain to handle. It’s called a ’betrayal trauma.’ To stay alive, your mind hid his face so you could continue to live in his house, eat his food, and survive. It preserved the relationship to preserve your life, even if that relationship was a lie."

Kira let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She glanced at Jessica, who reached over and squeezed her hand once, warm and steady. It made sense. All those years she had blamed herself, thought she was a curse, and tried to earn Rolf’s love—it was all because her mind had protected her from the truth that he was her monster.

***

After they left the doctor’s office, the two friends walked slowly along one of the town’s paths lined with tall trees. The neutral ground was alive with the sounds of people and the hum of life. But Kira was all caught up in her own head.

"I think I have a lead, Jess," Kira said, stopping by a tree.

"A lead on what?"

"Sometime ago, at the mall, a woman stopped and stared at me. She looked horrified. She called me Claire, and I’m just getting to find out that my mother’s name was Claire. I think she might be a lead. Someone who actually knew my mother."

"So, what happened? Did you get any information about this woman that would be a great start?" Jessica asked.

"I didn’t. She hurriedly walked away when you came. I went back to that mall twice to check but I never saw her again."

"Hmm," Jessica breathed. "That’s strange." Then, she looked at her friend, her expression shifting from worry to a deep, heavy seriousness. She bit her lip, looking around to ensure no one was eavesdropping.

"Uhm... speaking about your mom, I’ve been taking the espionage job you gave to me quite seriously. Now, I don’t know how true this is, since my parents aren’t even sure about it, but..." Jessica took a deep breath. "Have you ever wondered about your mother’s family or what happened to them?"

Kira looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well, I just assumed she wasn’t from Monnfang."

"Oh, she was. But I couldn’t find any one of them because they died in a fire at the old Moonfang packhouse years ago."

Kira felt the world tilt. The image of the falling match from her memory flashed in her mind. "A fire? All of them?"

"It wasn’t just them," Jessica continued, her eyes dark with the weight of the information. "The stories aren’t straight, and the omegas are very scared of saying too much. Honestly, I don’t think they even know much about it. It’s just a rumour that has passed down through the years," Jessica said calmly.

"But I was able to locate where the old packhouse used to be, so I figured it was true. I also, found out that on the day it happened, Alpha Rolf, Luna Lydia, and Chloe were away on a trip. When they returned, the entire packhouse had burned to the ground. Everyone inside was gone... except you."

Kira stared at her friend in bewilderment. The wind rustled the leaves above them, but the sound felt far away. "What?"

How come she never knew any of these? Exactly what amount of her memories was her brain protecting?

Jessica reached out and took Kira’s arm gently. "I heard Luna Lydia asked your father to cover it up, especially from outsiders. She said it was to protect you. Many families lost children, husbands, and mothers in that fire. That is why it has been so difficult to find anyone who knew your mother personally. Almost everyone close to her died that night."

The revelation landed like a physical blow. Kira’s knees felt weak. She leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree, the rough bark pressing into her back. The more she thought about it, the more she was piecing things together. A fire that killed everyone who knew her mother... right after Rolf and Lydia left the packhouse...? How convenient it was that they weren’t there when the fire outbreak happened.

Now, thinking about it after her memories returned, she was certain Rolf had purposely wiped her mother’s family out. But why?

"It does not sound like an accident," Kira whispered. "It sounds like someone wanted to clean up every trace of information about my mother." She looked at Jessica, eyes wide. "But why? And why wasn’t I burned in that fire too?"

Jessica shook her head slowly. "I don’t know. But it feels deliberate."

"Because it is," Kira muttered. A plan was forming in her head. She needed answers. Real answers. And she could not keep waiting. She looked at her friend. "Jessica, please arrange a meeting for me with Lydia here at The Central as soon as possible."