They drove until the first light cracked the horizon open. The city vanished behind them, replaced by wet fields and fog.
"Where are we?" Maya asked.
"Edge of the county."
"You sound like a man guessing."
"I sound like a man who hasn't slept."
Maya traced her finger on the fogged window. "Who else knows about me?"
Rowan sighed. "A man named Harland Voss. He funded the experiment. He believed consciousness could be stored through emotional resonance. If he found out you've been exposed"
"He'll come for me."
"He'll want to finish what he started."
She turned to face him. "You sound like you still believe in it."
He hesitated. "I believed in the idea. Not what it became."
"And Amelia?"
"She was proof. Until she wasn't."
They stopped at a roadside diner, nearly empty. The waitress gave them the kind of look reserved for people running from something.
Maya stirred her coffee. "If she's an echo, how can she touch things? How can she appear?"
"If you remember a face vividly enough, your brain doesn't ask permission to see it. The echo learns that trick."
"You sound like you're defending her."
"I'm defending reason."
She leaned forward. "Reason doesn't whisper my name at night."
He looked away, fingers tightening on the mug. "Neither should I."
Silence.
Outside, fog thickened. A figure crossed the road slowly, deliberately. The bell above the diner door jingled. Cold air entered.
"We're closed," the waitress said.
The figure didn't answer.
Rowan stood. "Maya, behind me."
The stranger stepped into the light a man, tall, rain dripping off his coat. His eyes were colorless.
"Dr. Kale," he said. "Mr. Voss wants to see you."
Maya gripped the edge of the table. "You said he wouldn't find us."
Rowan's expression hardened. "I said he shouldn't."
The man reached inside his coat.
Rowan moved first.
The table crashed over. Coffee spilled like blood across the tiles. Maya grabbed the recorder from her bag without thinking.
The man lunged. The door slammed open. The wind that followed was cold, electric as if the night itself had come in to listen.
The man froze mid-step, eyes wide. His lips parted.
"You left me behind."
The voice came from the recorder no, from everywhere.
The lights flickered, then died.
When they returned, the man was gone.
Only his coat lay on the floor.
Maya whispered, "What did she do?"
Rowan picked up the recorder, his face pale. "She protected us."
"Protected," Maya repeated. "Or claimed?"
He looked at her then, a strange mix of awe and fear. "Both."