?Chapter 1434:


    Maia epted. She was acutely aware of how much she needed it.


    The cool drink soothed her throat, its sweetness bringing a wave of relief that momentarily cleared the turmoil in her head. Only when a hint of color had returned to her face did Carsen draw a chair close and sit opposite her, his expression serious, his eyes heavy with the weight of what he was about to say.


    “Chris is stable for now,” he began. “His vital signs aren’t showing any decline at the moment.”


    Maia let out a small, restrained breath — a brief flicker of relief.


    But Carsen’s voice shifted, darkening with caution. “As for when he will wake up, that’s impossible to predict. Every patient is different. It could be a week, a month, or even longer.”


    Maia nodded quietly, her face betraying nothing. Her training as a surgeon had prepared her for moments like these. Extracting a bullet fragment from the brain carried a high risk of leaving the patient in aa afterward.


    Seeing her remain calm, Carsen hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing his gaze. But he knew he could not withhold the truth from her.


    “There’s something else I need to tell you,” he said, lowering his voice.


    Maia slowly raised her eyes to meet his, a subtle unease stirring in her chest. “Go ahead,” she said softly.


    Carsen folded his hands over his knees and spoke with care. “You need to prepare yourself. Surgeries like this almost always carry consequences for memory and cognition. The brain is fragile — even small disruptions can have longsting effects. Some abilities may slowly return, but others may be lost forever.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before delivering the most painful part. “He could forget people, moments… even you.”


    Maia’s thoughts screeched to a halt.


    Though Carsen’s voice was calm, his words hit her like a tidal wave, stealing her breath and dragging her under. She sat rigidly on the sofa. Would Chris really forget her? Erase every shared memory, even the ones forged in life and death?


    “It can’t be that much of a coincidence, can it?” she whispered, barely audible, clinging to a fragile strand of hope.


    That hope was extinguished a momentter as Carsen’s next words poured over her like ice water.


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    “Maia, you’re a doctor. You know how this works,” he said, his expression a careful blend of pity and resolve. “The brain holds the memories of those we love most with the greatest depth. But when trauma strikes that exactwork, those memories can be the first to go — erased or walled off as a form of defense.”


    He continued gently. “It’s a cruel paradox. He may remember facts about Maia Watson. He may recall stories that feature you. But seeing you in person could trigger nothing at all. The memory exists, but the emotional connection — the recognition — can be severed entirely. It’s a form of cognitive dissociation.”


    Carsen sighed, the sound heavy in the quiet room. “This is why top surgeons often turn these cases down. The surgery can save a life, but the cost may be the patient’s entire identity. The oue is never certain.”


    The office fell silent except for the steady ticking of the clock.


    Maia’s heart stuttered. A sharp, acidic fear rose in her throat. She looked down and bit her lower lip until she tasted blood. A chill crept through her — what if she became nothing more than a stranger in Chris’s mind?


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