Chapter 9 Trust no one

The envelope felt heavier than it should. Thick ivory paper, sealed with a strip of wax and Selene Voss's insignia - a stylized ouroboros. Juniper stared at it for a moment longer, her hands trembling slightly as the cold night wind tugged at the hem of her coat. Victor Hale stood beside her, still and unreadable.

She slid a finger beneath the seal and cracked it open.

Inside were two documents. The first was a printed report stamped CONFIDENTIAL in large block letters, dated six months prior. The second was a photograph - glossy, color, slightly worn at the corners. Juniper pulled it out, her breath catching the instant she saw what was on it.

It was her.

Not Selene. Not some doctored image or distant figure. Juniper Wren - her actual self - was sitting at the counter of her flower shop, the faded "Wren's Garden" sign visible in the background. She wore her favorite apron, smudged with soil, her hair in a messy braid, holding a white lily in one hand.

The photo was dated March 7th - three weeks before the body swap.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the picture. She hadn't known anyone had been watching her.

She looked up sharply at Hale. "Where did you get this?"

He didn't answer. His eyes were on the second document. "Read the file."

Juniper hesitated, then unfolded the pages. Her eyes scanned quickly, picking out key phrases that sent cold bursts through her spine:

"Subject WREN, J - flagged as genetically viable candidate for Neurolink Host Transition under Phase III of Project Arcturus."

"Unwitting participant. Memory and behavioral analysis indicate low threat probability post-transition."

"Selected for compatibility match with PRIME HOST: VOSS, S."

"Phase III objectives: Test psychological elasticity post-swap, monitor stress thresholds, determine adaptive survival instincts under artificial identity immersion."

Juniper's vision blurred at the edges. The words felt unreal. Her knees wobbled. She reached out and gripped the railing of the bridge.

"You're telling me..." she whispered, "...this wasn't voluntary? I didn't sign up for the Borrowed Life program?"

Hale's voice was low, steady. "There is no Borrowed Life program. Not the way you think."

The wind howled between the iron girders of the bridge. Juniper stared at him, heart pounding. "I was... experimented on?"

"Yes," he said, almost gently. "You were selected. Your neurological and psychological profile matched Selene's needs for a controlled transition. The procedure is illegal, but Arcturus is far beyond oversight now. You were monitored for months. They chose you because you had no family. No major digital presence. You were, in their eyes, the perfect ghost."

She shook her head, clutching the photo to her chest. "No. That's not possible. I went to the clinic. I signed-"

"A waiver," Hale interrupted. "For a different procedure. Something cosmetic, yes? That form was a cover. Everything else was implanted after the fact. False memories. Programmed dreams. Subtle behavioral nudges."

Juniper backed away from him, the documents slipping from her hands. "You're lying."

"I wish I were."

He stepped forward, lowering his voice. "Juniper, they're not done with you. You're a variable they can't control anymore. And that makes you a threat."

"I don't understand-why would Selene agree to this?" Her voice cracked. "Why would anyone-"

"She didn't," Hale said flatly.

That stopped her cold.

"What?"

"She's missing. Has been for months. They've been using her body as a puppet - filled in with you. You think this ends in seven days? They're never giving her back. And they're not planning to let you go either."

Juniper's knees nearly gave out. She gripped the bridge's edge, breathing fast, trying to process. Her heart thundered against her ribs. Selene wasn't in her body. Selene was gone.

She wasn't borrowing a life. She'd been given one - stolen, unasked.

Everything inside her screamed to reject this, but the puzzle pieces clicked together too cleanly. The empty clinic. The absence of a contract copy. The hallucinations. The dreams that didn't feel like dreams. The strange moments when her reflection seemed off - too rehearsed.

"You were meant to burn out after a week," Hale said, quieter now. "Lose cohesion. Breakdown. That's part of the test. But you're still here. Still lucid. That means something."

Juniper felt like vomiting. She closed her eyes. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I used to work for them. And I lost someone I cared about to Arcturus. I've been trying to tear it down from the inside."

She opened her eyes. He was closer now, but his posture remained guarded.

"I want to help you," he added. "But if you want to survive, you need to vanish. Tonight. Disappear before they realize what you've learned."

Juniper opened her mouth to reply - but froze.

Across the bridge, in the shadows beneath a streetlamp, a figure had appeared. Not moving. Watching.

Hale's expression shifted. "We're not alone."

"Is that one of yours?" she whispered.

"No," he said sharply. "Get down."

She dropped low just as a sharp crack echoed across the bridge - a bullet pinged off the steel railing where she'd been standing seconds earlier.

"Run!" Hale barked, grabbing her hand.

They sprinted down the length of the bridge as more shots rang out behind them, echoing like thunder through the empty night. Somewhere, tires screeched. A black SUV swerved into view on the far side of the street, headlights flaring.

Juniper's lungs burned as they ducked into an alley, her legs trembling from fear and adrenaline. Hale yanked open a rusted maintenance door and pushed her inside. The stairwell was pitch black.

"Keep moving," he ordered.

She stumbled after him, still clutching the photo of herself.

Everything she thought she knew - the agreement, the swap, even the idea of choice - had just unraveled.

She wasn't borrowing a life.

She was trapped in a conspiracy that had always intended to erase her.