They Billed Me For Eighteen Years Of Love And I Sold Every Memory Chapter 07

The Whitmores didn’t wait for morning. As soon as the party ended, they drove straight to the memory bank.

Graham slammed the records down on the counter.

“Take your money back.”

“And give my daughter her memories back.”

The manager checked the clock, his expression sympathetic but firm.

“Mr. Whitmore, as we’ve told you several times, core memory transactions can’t be reversed.”

“I’ll pay double,” Graham interrupted.

“Ten times. Name your price.”

“Money is no object.”

The manager only shook his head.

“It’s not about the money.”

“Ms. Whitmore’s memories have been stripped of all identifying information. They’ve been split up and released into the public memory archive.”

“One buyer purchased the safety of a mother’s love. Another bought the warmth of riding on a father’s back. Somebody else got the rush of first love.”

“There’s no way to track down who bought what. And there’s no way to piece it all back together in her head.”

Maren clung to the counter, her legs about to give out.

“Then I’ll tell her everything. All of it.”

“Every day, if I have to. Someday she’ll remember.”

“You can build new memories with her.”

He let that sit for a beat.

“But the old ones won’t ever come back.”

Maren crumpled, sobbing into her hands.

Once, one tear from her would’ve had me apologizing before it hit her cheek.

Now, from my seat in the VIP waiting area a few yards away, I listened to them break down while quietly paging through the massive file of everything I’d sold.

She cried for a long time. I never once looked up.

Bennett walked over.

“Come home with us, Evie.”

“Your room’s still there.”

“I’ll put everything back exactly how it was.”

I flipped to a property inventory report in the file.

My old bedroom had been converted into a piano room now. Everything I owned was crammed into cardboard boxes and stacked in a damp basement.

“That’s what you call ‘still there’?”

Bennett blanched.

“That was only temporary.”

“Tessa had just come home. She needed a place to practice.”

“We never wanted to push you out.”

I pulled out the fake bill next.

“Total owed, $900,000 flat. Because, apparently, I spent eighteen years enjoying love that was supposed to be Tessa’s.”

“Who drew this up?”

Graham’s eyes slid away from mine.

That was all the answer I needed.

“It was fake, wasn’t it?”

Nobody said a word.

I kept going through the authorization forms the bank had on file.

The appraiser was a friend of the Whitmores.

Every cent of the proceeds had gone to Tessa.

And the group chat message saying the test was over had come only after my final sale cleared.

Put together, it wasn’t complicated.

They’d used a fake bill to trick me into selling a very real past.

Graham came toward me.

“Evie, things got out of hand.”

“But everything I did, I did for this family.”

“Your sister was finally home. We were afraid you’d shut her out.”

“You were always so territorial. We wanted to see if you’d be willing to step aside.”

“Territorial?”

I picked up another file, a psych evaluation.

“According to the doctor’s notes, after I sold the first batch, I had chronic insomnia, heart palpitations, and

confusion.”

“There’s a transcript here from a month ago,” I said, my voice deadpan. “I sank to my knees on the living room floor and begged you to lower the amount.”

I looked up at Maren’s pale face. “And your response, Ma’am?”

“You told me that if I refused to sell, it meant I didn’t care about my sister.”

“And you,” I turned the page, my eyes landing on Adrian. “There’s an intake note here. I asked what would

happen if I forgot you someday.”

“You told me to quit using it as a threat.”

“You said I was so in love with you, I’d forget the whole world before I forgot you.”

I slid the papers back into the folder.

“Who I used to be doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But these records show I asked for help.”

“Every single one of you heard me.”

“And not one of you believed me.”

Graham’s hand shot out to stop me.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Back to my apartment.”

“Your home is with us.”

I met his eyes, my voice level.

“If I had to hollow out my own mind just to earn my place, it was never a home.”