Episode 2
The darkness felt heavier tonight.
Iris lay stiffly on the hospital bed, the leather restraints re-fastened but not as tight—Alec had personally adjusted them before leaving, almost like a twisted gesture of affection.
She hadn't told him she remembered the note. Or that she had it hidden beneath the pillow.
The words burned into her brain:
> "Don't trust Alec Draven. He killed your sister."
The weight of that sentence haunted her like a ghost.
She didn't even remember having a sister.
But the handwriting on that note—it looked oddly familiar. Not like her own, but not entirely foreign either. Somewhere deep inside, she felt the truth of it. Like an instinct screaming from inside her amnesia-stripped brain.
Alec hadn't returned since his chilling warning hours ago. The lights had dimmed to their usual night-time blue. The machines blinked softly beside her bed. A nurse had brought food—she hadn't touched it.
Her right hand, still slightly sore from the earlier escape attempt, flexed subtly beneath the strap. The bruised skin throbbed, but her resolve didn't waver.
If she was going to escape—she needed to learn everything. Fast.
---
Midnight.
Something clicked in the hallway.
Iris's eyes snapped open.
She remained still, watching as the door creaked slightly—just enough to see someone peek in.
A young woman—same one as before. Nurse Nina.
Except… she wasn't in uniform now. Just a grey hoodie, black leggings, and sneakers. Her expression was tense.
She tiptoed inside and whispered, "Are you awake?"
Iris nodded, lips dry. "Why are you here?"
"I'm breaking every protocol being here right now. But I don't care," the nurse whispered fiercely. "He's watching everyone. Even the cameras. But I know you're not insane."
"Please… I don't remember anything," Iris said. "But I think something terrible happened. I found a note. It said Alec killed my sister."
Nina's eyes widened. "So, you did find it."
"You left it?"
Nina nodded. "There isn't much time. Alec's using this hospital for something else. It's not licensed—at least not in the way it should be."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll show you," she said, reaching into her hoodie pocket and tossing a tiny object on the bed.
A bobby pin.
"I saw how you freed yourself earlier," Nina continued. "Tonight, you'll do it again. Behind the mirror in the bathroom, there's a hidden panel. Inside it… there's a file. Your file."
"My file?"
"Everything. Your real diagnosis. And what they've done to you."
"Why would you help me?" Iris asked warily.
"Because I lost my brother here," Nina whispered. "He was one of Alec Draven's patients. He never left this hospital."
Iris's chest tightened.
"What happened to him?"
"I never got an answer. But if you find that file, maybe we both get justice."
She glanced toward the hallway.
"I'll disable the camera loop for 20 minutes. That's all I can do. The rest is up to you."
Then she slipped out of the room without another word.
---
2:17 AM
Iris worked fast, heart hammering.
The bobby pin was old-school, but her fingers remembered more than her brain did. Muscle memory kicked in. Maybe she'd escaped handcuffs before? The thought was terrifying… and useful.
Click.
Her right hand slipped free again.
She unraveled the rest of the restraints and padded barefoot toward the attached bathroom. The blue light cast eerie shadows on the walls, but she didn't hesitate.
The mirror above the sink was wide, mounted with no visible edges.
Iris ran her hands along its perimeter until she felt something—the tiniest gap in the lower right corner. She pressed there gently.
Click.
The mirror creaked open like a cabinet door.
Inside was a small steel safe embedded in the wall. It had no lock—just a metal latch.
She pulled it open.
And froze.
---
Inside:
A thin brown folder labeled Patient 404: Iris Vale
A USB drive
A photo
She picked up the photo first.
Two young women, side by side, smiling brightly on a beach. One of them was her.
The other… looked like her, but older. More confident.
Her sister.
Scrawled on the back: "Summer, 2020. Iris and Eva."
Eva. The name sent a bolt through her.
Tears welled in her eyes.
She turned to the folder, hands trembling.
Inside were documents—some typed, others handwritten:
"Subject showed signs of emotional detachment after exposure to Compound IX…"
"Memory repression protocol initiated—administered by A.D."
"Final diagnosis: Suspected involuntary psychogenic amnesia due to trauma inflicted by romantic betrayal and subsequent disappearance of sibling."
She flipped through more.
One page stood out:
> "Directive from Alec Draven: Override protocol in place. Patient 404 to remain under sedation if resistance continues. Keep isolated."
Iris stumbled backward, clutching the file to her chest.
Sedation. Memory suppression. Control.
She wasn't recovering.
She was being manipulated.
---
A sudden noise.
Footsteps.
No time.
She shoved the USB and photo into her hospital gown pocket, along with the note from earlier. Then she gently shut the mirror panel, hurried back to the bed, and started refastening the restraints just as the door opened—
Alec.
His eyes locked onto her.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked coolly.
She forced a tired smile. "No. I had a dream. A bad one."
He walked closer.
"I should've stayed with you longer earlier," he murmured, brushing a hand over her forehead. "But I've had a long night."
"You seem tired," she said softly, masking her terror.
His smile didn't reach his eyes. "Running a hospital isn't easy, especially when your most precious patient keeps secrets."
She swallowed.
"I'm not keeping secrets."
He leaned close.
"We'll see about that."
Then, to her horror, he reached into her gown pocket.
She clenched her teeth. He pulled out—
A candy wrapper.
She hadn't noticed it was there.
He laughed quietly, crumpled it, and stood.
"Sleep now, Iris. Tomorrow, we start a new phase of your therapy."
As he left, she exhaled shakily.
He didn't find the USB. Or the photo. Or the note.
But she knew now: he was watching everything.
Tomorrow, she had to escape.
But not alone.
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