Part 3The Memory Thief: Kill to Remember

Chloe was dead.

Chloe's mother found her collapsed in the living room when she came home that night. By the time they got her to the hospital, it was too late. Police investigation concluded she had died from poisoning, a lethal reaction to consuming antibiotics and alcohol simultaneously. In an age before widespread internet access, as middle schoolers, we weren't fully aware of such common knowledge. Except for me, armed with three years of my father's memories.

That's right. The cold medicine Chloe and I had bought that day contained cephalosporin, a common antibiotic.

It had all gone too smoothly, beyond my wildest expectations. I'd considered so many possibilities: Chloe might not have taken the medicine. Chloe might have taken medicine, but not the cephalosporin. Chloe might have felt unwell and called for help in time. Her mother might have come home early and stopped her. Could such seamless success mean that fate itself was on my side?

As Chloe's best friend, and the last person to see her alive, I was called to the police station for questioning. I was a minor, so a parent had to accompany me. Facing the police officers, I looked utterly terrified. My mother comforted me.

"It's okay, honey, the officers just want to ask you a few questions."

"Yes, don't be scared, little one, we just have some questions for you," the officer added kindly. They clearly didn't suspect a young girl like me could be capable of anything nefarious.

"According to the victim's mother, Chloe didn't usually drink alcohol, yet you two were drinking that day. Why was that?"

I looked scared, turning to my mother. My mother gave my arm a reassuring pat, signaling that it was fine, just to tell the truth. "Chloe said she wanted to try drinking that day, just for a thrill. She suddenly pulled two bottles of alcohol out of her bag." I paused, my voice trembling. "I really didn't want to drink, and I tried to convince her not to, but who would have thought..." As I spoke, tears began to stream down my face, uncontrolled.

The officer nodded. The surveillance footage indeed showed Chloe practically forcing the bottle into my hand. The police asked a few more innocuous questions, then let me leave. The case was ultimately classified as a tragic consequence of adolescent rebellion and a fatal lack of basic knowledge. Chloe's death was even publicized within the school as a cautionary tale.

I sorted through the torrent of new thoughts in my mind, like discovering a new continent. Chloe's mind, it turned out, contained an astonishing wealth of knowledge. My grades skyrocketed, making my mother incredibly happy. I was thrilled.

On the day of the middle school entrance exams, I performed flawlessly, earning my desired spot at Northwood Academy, the best high school in the city. My mother sold our house and bought a new one in a desirable school district near Northwood Academy. My new bedroom was spacious, with a large window. I even had my own study.

During the summer, my mother enrolled me in a high school preparatory course. So when high school started, I wasn't completely overwhelmed. But I knew this wasn't a sustainable solution. I lacked any real academic talent; I simply wasn't intelligent. Even with Chloe's solid knowledge base, I would eventually fall behind. My last success had relied too heavily on luck. This time, I needed to meticulously plan my high school years.