The next day, I was collecting my mail when Mrs. Harlan from the HOA caught me at the curb.
“Morning, Sammie,” she said, smiling too hard. “Your new neighbor seems… intense.”
Before I could answer, a sleek black sedan rolled up. Camille stepped out.
“Elias,” she called, warm and loud enough for the cul-de-sac to hear. “Sweetheart. I just came to check up on you.”
Gabriel came out of his house, shoulders tight. Camille’s eyes slid to me.
“Sammie, dear… I’m so sorry. He’s been recovering for years. Grief can do strange thing — especially when someone resembles a memory.”
“I know who he really is, Camille.”
“Your new neighbor seems… intense.”
Mrs. Harlan’s smile vanished. Camille held her smile, but her gaze sharpened.“I only want what’s best for him,” she said sweetly. “For Elias’s health, keep your distance — or the paperwork will come and he will vanish.”
Gabriel’s jaw flexed. “Stop talking about me like I’m not standing here.”
A week passed.
Gabe and I kept our conversations private, sitting on my back porch where nobody could see. He was careful — until a black sedan idled at the corner, lights off, engine ticking. We knew Camille was watching us.
“I only want what’s best for him.”
One day, he brought me an old photograph, one we’d taken in his basement just before the fire. We were grinning, arms around each other, the matching tattoos on our forearms.
A matching infinity symbol — because we wanted to last forever.
“I kept this,” he said, voice soft. “It was the only thing that was mine. They took everything else. I didn’t know who you were for a long time because of the amnesia.”
“I don’t know what to say, Gabriel.”
“There were days I’d remember flashes — your laugh, the garage, the tattoo. Then they’d switch doctors, change the rules, tighten access. I’d lose ground again. This photo kept me going.”
“They took everything else.”
I took the photo, tracing the edges with my thumb.
I looked at him, searching his face for the boy I loved. “Did you ever try to run?”
He nodded.
“The first year, I tried twice. They found me both times. After that, I was always watched. Even as an adult, someone was always there — a nurse, a caregiver, someone from the family.”
A lump rose in my throat.
“And you just… accepted it?”
“I stopped fighting when they told me you were married.”“Did you ever try to run?”
“Gabe, you need to stop living under her thumb. It’s been 30 years of this nonsense.”
He shook his head, rubbing the scar on his arm. “You don’t know Camille, Sammie. She’s gotten worse than you remember. She has lawyers, money, connections everywhere. She’s been controlling everything for so long, I —”
I reached across the table. “Then let’s fight. Together.”
He looked at me, uncertain. “Fight how? She has everything. My father is dead, and he was starting to understand…”
“She doesn’t have everything,” I said. “She doesn’t have the truth. And she doesn’t have us working together. Gabe, you’re not Elias. You’re Gabriel. Stop letting her decide who you are.”
I looked at the taut, burned skin on his forearm.
“Then let’s fight. Together.”
“She threatened your father. She threatened you. If we go after her —”
“I’m not afraid of your mother, Gabe. Not anymore,” I met his eyes. “And you shouldn’t be, either. I’m here now.”
For the first time since he walked back into my life, I saw the boy I remembered.
“What do we do?” he asked.
“We expose her,” I said. “You take back your name. You tell the board you’re alive and here. And you reclaim what’s yours — your life, your company, your history.”
He let out a shaky breath. “If I do this, I need you with me.”
“I’m not afraid of your mother, Gabe.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said. “You’re Gabriel. And I’m your Sammie. And trust me when I say that I know how to fight.”
A slow grin crept across his face. “You always were the troublemaker.”I squeezed his hand.
“And you always covered for me.”
He laughed, but it faded into something serious. “She’ll come after us.”
“I’m counting on it,” I said, standing up. “Let’s make her play defense for once.”
“You always were the troublemaker.”
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