The Memory Heist: The Island of Deception part two

Chapter 1

It had been seven months since Amber last saw the island.

Since the day it cracked open and nearly took them with it. Since the day her mother's locket broke the system and freed them all—or so she thought.

Now, she woke to sunlight pouring through half-closed blinds in a coastal rental house that didn't quite feel like home. The kind of place you live in while waiting for the next place. The kind of place you don't hang pictures in.

Aaron stirred beside her.

He looked more peaceful these days, but still not whole. Neither of them were. You don't leave a place like that without pieces of yourself staying behind.

Amber sat up and listened.

Silence.

Then—

"Mama?"

A tiny voice down the hallway.

She smiled and got up, feet padding across the wooden floor.

⸻

Saint was in his room, curled on the floor with a coloring book. The pages were filled with messy scribbles and soft shapes. His curls were wild, his green eyes focused with an intensity that didn't match his two-year-old frame.

Amber crouched beside him.

"Hey, baby. Why aren't you in bed?"

Saint didn't answer with words. He pointed to his drawing—a thick spiral of dark lines, pressed hard into the page.

Amber leaned in. "What's that?"

He made a soft sound. "Tun-nuh."

Amber blinked.

The drawing looked more like a maze than a tunnel. And in the center... a little stick figure with big eyes.

She smoothed his curls. "Tunnel? You saw that?"

Saint nodded once. Then he touched his head and mumbled, "In here."

Amber stilled.

He was still learning to string his words together. Still mixing up sounds. But that... that was clear enough.

⸻

Later that morning, she sat on the porch sipping tea while Aaron made breakfast. Saint was inside humming to himself, watching cartoons with the volume too low.

Amber stared out at the waves.

They'd moved three times since the island. Each time felt like a layer of the past falling away. But now, she wasn't sure if they were running from something—or being led toward it.

Her phone buzzed.

A text from Kelvin:

"He's not done. I found something. Be careful."

Amber's stomach sank.

The ocean looked peaceful. But peace didn't mean safety. Not anymore.

She looked inside through the glass door.

Saint had turned off the TV.

He was just sitting there now.

Staring blankly at the screen.