It had been a full month since Lyla had returned to the company, easing herself back into the environment that once used to be her second home. Each day she picked up a little more confidence, exploring corners of the building that used to be so familiar, sitting in on creative meetings, even attempting to play certain instruments again—her fingers remembering what her mind didn't.
The company had set clear guidelines: under no circumstances was anyone allowed to bring up any events from the past five years—especially her relationship with Noah or the accident. The doctors had emphasized how fragile her mental state still was, and even the smallest trigger could send a shockwave of buried memories flooding in, which her brain might not be able to handle all at once. She had to remember things naturally—on her own time.
