I Reincarnated to Another World as a Woman-Chapter 246: Public Glory, Private Ruin

"Alex!"

Alicia jolts awake, screaming.

The next second, she is sitting upright in her dark room, chest heaving. The lights are off. She is alone. No one is there. And definitely no Alex.

Her fingers clutch the bedsheet so tightly her knuckles turn pale. Cold sweat runs down her spine, soaking through the thin fabric of her nightshirt. It is almost the end of autumn, the air cool and dry, yet she is drenched.

She swallows hard and forces herself out of bed. Her legs feel weak as she crosses the small space and flips on the light.

The room floods with artificial brightness.

She blinks and turns her head toward the wall clock.

4.00 a.m.

Again.

It is the same time.

Why do I keep seeing that Alex is dead? He’s not dead.

Is he?

Her throat tightens.

Alicia walks to the fridge and pulls out a bottle of water. The cold air brushes her heated skin. She shuts the fridge door, sets the bottle on the kitchen table, and sinks into a chair.

The ticking of the clock is suddenly too loud.

She stares at the digital panel again.

I don’t remember. People said Alex is dead. I don’t remember him being dead.But I remember scattering ashes at Lucas Lake.

Her gaze drifts slowly around the studio apartment.

The narrow bed.

The small sofa.

The tiny kitchen.

She snorts softly.

Get a grip, Alicia. You don’t even remember moving into this studio apartment. You’re not sane anymore.

She woke up in the hospital with no memory of how she got there. No memory of the dungeon. No memory of what happened inside.

There was a man who called himself Captain David Chambers.

He explained that she had been rescued from a dungeon.

She could not remember his name at first.

Yet his face felt familiar. His voice felt familiar. The way he stood beside her hospital bed felt... known.

It made no sense.

How can I not remember his name, but the way he talks feels familiar?

There had been an ease between them. An unspoken understanding.

They knew each other.

Not romantically close.

But close.

Trusted.

She is certain he was not her childhood friend. Not from school. Not from university.

She is almost certain she had never met him before.

And yet everything about him feels like something she has known for years.

The doctor said her memories are fragmented, but she did not believe that.

She can remember almost every detail of her life up until a few months ago.

Up until people said Alex died.

"But he’s not dead, is he?"

Her voice sounds small in the quiet apartment.

She grabs the bottle of water, twists the cap open, and takes a long sip.

Cold, refreshing water slides down her throat. It should steady her. It should clear her thoughts.

It does not.

It only makes the silence sharper.

She walks back toward her bed and picks up her phone from the bedside table.

The screen lights up.

She notices the date.

Her breath catches.

Eight months.

I have a gap in my memory.

Eight months’ worth of memories.

Her thumb trembles slightly against the screen.

"The doctor said they’ll return slowly," she whispers to herself. "But if Alex is truly dead, I don’t want to remember."

The words feel like betrayal.

A single tear slips down her cheek.

Then another.

And another.

Her chest tightens painfully.

The grief comes without warning, without logic, without permission.

The next thing she knows, she is breaking down, standing in the middle of her apartment, still holding the cold bottle of water as if it is the only solid thing in the world.

Her shoulders shake.

And she cries for memories she cannot reach, and for a brother she is not sure she has truly lost.

-------------------------------

"People, please. Take a step back. Like I said yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and all the few days before that, Rhaenas is not available for interviews. Not one hour. Not five minutes."

"Not available." Claudia enunciates the last two words carefully, slowly, deliberately.

Camera flashes almost blind her. Microphones are shoved inches from her face. Voices overlap, questions collide, accusations fly.

The press is no longer requesting interviews.

They are demanding them.

They want access to Rhaenas. The heroes of Solarys. Possibly the heroes of Concordia.

Claudia has successfully kept them at bay so far. The fact that Rhaenas refuses to leave the apartment building has made her job easier.

But Claudia Monfort is not known for her patience.

Being physically pushed.

Being blocked from walking. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Being surrounded.

Microphones shoved into her face.

Reporters shouting over one another without basic courtesy.

Her patience, already thin, stretches thinner.

Much thinner.

Today, it snaps.

Several rude reporters block the entrance to the Rhaenas building, accusing her of playing hard to get. Of manufacturing scarcity. Of manipulating publicity.

She freezes for a second.

That second is enough.

They swarm her.

Shoulders press against hers. Cameras push closer. Hands wave recording devices inches from her mouth.

"ENOUGH!" she finally shouts.

The word cuts through the noise like a blade.

"I have had it with all of you! You are rude and disrespectful. This is not how you treat people you call ’heroes!’ I am done."

She pulls out her phone and starts dialing.

One reporter scoffs loudly. "If you’re calling the police, it’s no use, Ms. Monfort. We are the press. We have the right to get the right information about what happened in St. Lucas last week. The police know that we have that right!"

"Yeah!"

"True!"

"It’s within our rights!"

Claudia ignores the noise.

She speaks calmly and confidently into her phone.

The call lasts less than sixty seconds.

She hangs up.

Says nothing.

Only smiles.

Sarcastically.

The reporters continue snapping photos. Continue shoving microphones. Continue shouting questions as if volume equals authority.

Five minutes later, one SU vehicle arrives.

Then another.

Sentinels step out and begin clearing the area.

Firmly.

Efficiently.

Not only that, they begin arresting several reporters who refuse to disperse.

Protests erupt immediately.

"This is not how you handle the press!"

"I’m suing you!"

"You can’t do this!"

Claudia stands perfectly still, watching them with open disdain.

She lifts one finger and points at a particular reporter.

She gestures for him to step closer.

He hesitates, then emerges from the crowd and approaches her, recorder in hand.

No one stops him.

Claudia meets his eyes and speaks clearly.

"Write this. I am Claudia Monfort, the only daughter of Linus Monfort of Monfort Industries. This area is now off limits to reporters, media, and the like. Rhaenas will hold a press conference at their convenience."

She narrows her eyes.

"Keep swarming this area. I dare you. And see how I, Claudia Monfort, destroy your careers."

She turns without another word.

And enters the building.