72 Hours to Forget You
864 Views · Ongoing · Daisy Swift
Draven Hale had always loved me like drowning — total, breathless, nothing held back.
But the day Lenora Veyra's oncologist stamped terminal across her diagnostic dossier, that devotion changed direction.
He reached into his coat pocket and pressed a capsule into my palm.
A targeted memory-suppressant serum.
"Three days, Vesper," he said. "Lenora's dying. Let me give her a wedding. That's all she wants."
It wouldn't hurt, he promised.
Afterwards I'd take the counteragent, the last three days would dissolve like smoke, and we'd walk back into the registry office and put the ring back where it belonged.
I stared at him in silence, and I swallowed the capsule dry.
What Draven didn't know was that the compound was mine — I'd built it. And I knew that there was no counteragent.
In seventy-two hours, he'd be nothing to me but a stranger with a familiar face.
But the day Lenora Veyra's oncologist stamped terminal across her diagnostic dossier, that devotion changed direction.
He reached into his coat pocket and pressed a capsule into my palm.
A targeted memory-suppressant serum.
"Three days, Vesper," he said. "Lenora's dying. Let me give her a wedding. That's all she wants."
It wouldn't hurt, he promised.
Afterwards I'd take the counteragent, the last three days would dissolve like smoke, and we'd walk back into the registry office and put the ring back where it belonged.
I stared at him in silence, and I swallowed the capsule dry.
What Draven didn't know was that the compound was mine — I'd built it. And I knew that there was no counteragent.
In seventy-two hours, he'd be nothing to me but a stranger with a familiar face.









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