My Brain Fades, His Hate Never Ends Chapter 06

My Brain Fades, His Hate Never Ends Chapter 06

My brother took me home.

Not the dark, damp basement, but a bright, spacious apartment.

Dr. Hale said Elias Voss had arranged it.

He’d also left a black Amex card with no limit.

Jude tried to return it, but Dr. Hale stopped him.

“Keep it.”

“Elara’s treatment costs a fortune.”

“Ongoing care, new drug trials-it’s a bottomless pit.”

“Consider it… his way of making amends.”

Jude was silent for a long time, then finally took the card.

My life seemed to snap back to normal overnight.

A live-in caregiver tended to my daily needs.

Different specialists came in for consultations every day.

Jude no longer had to do manual labor. He could stay with me all day.

He read me storybooks, did puzzles with me, like taking care of a little kid.

I felt like I’d turned back into a carefree little girl.

But my memory kept slipping away.

I stopped recognizing the caregiver’s face.

I forgot the specialists’ names.

Sometimes I’d stare at Jude for ages, confused.

Then ask:

“Who are you?”

Each time, Jude patiently pulled out my Polaroid and showed me our photo.

He told me he was my brother.

The man named Elias Voss never showed up again.

I only saw his name occasionally in financial news.

Voss Group stock rose again.

Elias Voss acquired another company.

He was still the untouchable business king, living in a world far from mine.

I thought our paths would never cross again.

Until the day Jude took me for a checkup.

We passed a man in a wheelchair in the hospital lobby.

He wore a mask and a cap, his face hidden.

But the familiar, cool woody scent made my heart skip a beat.

I turned back without thinking.

The man stopped too and looked at me.

Our eyes met.

Even through the mask, he looked familiar.

Like I’d seen him on TV.

But he was much thinner, his face pale, his eyes bloodshot and exhausted.

Nothing like the confident man in the news.

He stared at me, his lips moving like he wanted to speak.

Jude stepped in front of me at once, watching him warily.

“What do you want?”

Elias’s gaze fixed on me over Jude’s shoulder, stubborn.

His eyes were complicated.

Guilt, pain, and a fragile something I couldn’t name.

“I…”

He managed one word before breaking into a harsh cough.

His assistant handed him water quickly.

“Mr. Voss, it’s time for your medication.”

He waved it off, still looking at me.

“Elara, you…”

“Let’s go.”

Jude didn’t let him finish and pulled me toward the door.

But I didn’t move.

I pulled my digital voice recorder out of my pocket.

I pointed it at him and pressed record.

Then I whispered:

“Who… are you?”

Elias’s body jolted hard.

All strength left him. He slumped back in his wheelchair.

Jude tugged me away and hurried out of the hospital.

I looked back. The man still sat there, alone.

Like a statue abandoned by the world.

That night, I lay in bed and played the recording over and over.

Only empty silence.

And one ragged, heartbroken cough he couldn’t hold back.

I didn’t know why I’d recorded it.

I just knew his voice felt familiar, and it hurt.

I took my journal and wrote on a new page:

[Met a very sad man at the hospital today.]

[He seems to know me.]

When I woke up the next morning,

something new was on my nightstand.

A brand-new, latest-model Polaroid camera.

Next to it was a card.