
She wakes strapped to a chair in a room of blinding white-with no name, no past, only 349, spoken by a voice too smooth to be human. Each time the machines dig into her mind, flashes break through the void: blood, a child's laugh, arms holding her tight. Memories she's not...

She wakes strapped to a chair in a room of blinding white-with no name, no past, only 349, spoken by a voice too smooth to be human. Each time the machines dig into her mind, flashes break through the void: blood, a child's laugh, arms holding her tight. Memories she's not...