The Vanishing Fisherman
Clara grabbed her own head.
"How is that possible?"
"I saw him..."
"I spoke to him..."
"I've seen him almost every day..."
"So why..."
"...can't I remember his face clearly?"
Cold sweat rolled down her neck.
The answer slowly formed inside her heart.
Someone...
Had interfered with her memories.
The realization chilled her to the core.
Victor quietly observed her.
He didn't look surprised.
Instead...
He simply waited for her to continue.
Clara's breathing gradually steadied.
"I always remembered him as..."
"...a kind old man."
"But now..."
"The more I think about him..."
"...the less natural those memories feel."
"It feels like..."
"...someone forced me to think that way."
She looked at Victor with fear in her purple eyes.
"My memories..."
"They've been manipulated..."
Victor slowly nodded.
"That explains a great deal."
Clara swallowed.
"But..."
"When did it happen?"
"Was it that day?"
"Or..."
