Darn Stupid Brother You Are by Mairee

Chapter 104 (Thomas's POV) Balancing my feelings for Angel with my mission was becoming a tightrope act, one misstep away from catastrophe. She had no idea who I really was, and every moment I spent with her felt like a lie and a truth tangled together. I wasn't supposed to care not this much. Not enough to jeopardize everything I'd worked for.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the dossier hidden under my mattress. The words on the papers felt like accusations. Names, dates, and instructions stared back at me. Maintain cover. Gather intelligence. Neutralize threats. But which side was the threat? A knock on the door startled me. Bundah leaned against the frwith his easy grin hiding whatever deeper questions he had about me. "You've been quiet, man. Something eating at you?" "Just tired," I replied, trying to sound casual.

Bundah raised an eyebrow. "Tired, huh? You sure it's not Angel? I mean, anyone can see you've got it bad for her. You're practically glued to her side. Too glued if you'd ask me." I forced a chuckle. "Yeah, well... can you blme?" He didn't press further, but the knowing look in his eyes lingered long after he walked away.

Later that evening, Angel and I sat outside the dorms under a flickering lamp. She leaned against my shoulder, and her warmth was both soothing and suffocating. Her laugh was soft, but I barely registered the joke she'd made. My mind was elsewhere; it was spinning through contingency plans and possible outcomes.

"You're distracted," she said as she tilted her head to meet my gaze.

"I'm here," I lied, forcing a smile.

Her hand slid into mine. "You don't have to pretend with me, Thomas. Whatever it is, you can talk to me." I wanted to believe that, but I couldn't risk it. She deserved better than half-truths and calculated silences. She deserved someone who wasn't here on orders.

But how could I let her go now? Later, in the dim light of my room, I opened the hidden compartment in my suitcase. The recording device hummed softly as I played back snippets of conversations I'd recorded over the weeks. Most of it was useless chatter, but I couldn't stop thinking about the meeting I'd overheard between Dr. Joe and Angel's mom. "Certain patients need to be handled." The words played on a loop in my head. They weren't talking about just anyone. They were talking about Hendrix. About Angel.

I clenched my fists, hating how my dual life was slowly crushing me. My mission was clear, but the lines were blurring. Angel wasn't just another patient. Hendrix wasn't just another pawn.

I had to make a choice soon. And I wasn't sure I could live with either option.

(Dilara's POV) It wasn't easy, pretending to trust him. Every smile I forced felt like swallowing glass, every word I exchanged with him felt like poison. But I knew this was the only way.

Ethan didn't recognizeagain, not fully. It's like he got his memory wiped or something. As if he'd been too drunk that night, wearing that arrogant grin on his face as he cornered me. But I remembered everything. The way he'd laughed, the way he'd leaned in too close. The way he'd ignored my protests.

That day, I ran into him "accidentally" in the cafeteria and spilled my tray just enough to catch his attention. "Sorry!" I stammered, wide-eyed.

He laughed and waved it off. "No harm done. You're... Dilara, right?" I nodded, pretending to be shy. "Yeah. And you're Ethan?" He grinned. "Guilty as charged." The casual arrogance in his tone made my skin crawl, but I bit back the bile rising in my throat. "Well, thanks for being cool about it." "Anytime," he said as his eyes lingered ona little too long.

Did he actually suddenly forget about me, or was it all a hoax? I was determined to find out Over the next few days, I kept the act up. A compliment here, a shared joke there. I hated every second of it, but I needed to get close enough to learn what he knew.

He let his guard down slowly as he bragged about his connections and his place in the center's hierarchy. "You know, this place isn't as clean as it looks," he said one day, leaning against the wall as we cleaned up after dinner. "Oh?" I said, pretending to be curious.

He smirked. "Let's just say, not everyone here is who they claim to be." I felt my heart race. "Like who?" "Can't say," he teased. "But stick around, and you'll learn a thing or two." And that's what I unfortunately did.

That night, as I sat in our dorm room, my hands were trembling as I told Angel everything.

"He suddenly doesn't know who I am again," I whispered. "But I think he's just playing an act, either to try what he did again... or to clear his name." Angel's eyes were wide with concern. "Dilara, this is dangerous. You don't have to do this alone."

"I do," I insisted. "This is the only way I can make him pay for what he did! He needs to feef what I felt. And besides..." I hesitated. "Besides what?" "He's connected to someone here. Someone higher up." Angel leaned forward. "Who?" "Dr. Nixon," My throat tightened around the words. "They're related. She's his aunt." Angel's gasp was audible. "Are you sure?" "I overheard him talking to someone about her. He called her by name." Angel shook her head, disbelief written across her face. "This changes everything." "I know," I said, more confidently. "And it's why I can't stop now."

My mission was a very mentally-draining one, but refused to let it pushime. Ethan would pay. En And Dr. Nixon wouldn't be far behind.