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If you want to keep a secret you must also hide it from yourself. —George Orwell
This malicious act of terrorism caused 5,120 deaths and injuries and was the single biggest loss of life on British soil since the coronavirus pandemic of 2020.
Even without the gesture, Flick knew he was judging her on the unwashed dishes, piles of dirty clothes spread across the kitchen floor, two bulging bin bags, a box of empty wine bottles, and a full ashtray. She couldn’t criticise Theo for his negative assessment.
Flick Kennedy learned that the man responsible for the killings was Christopher Bailey, the man who her DNA dictated was the love of her life.
So he removed from his pocket an antianxiety transdermal patch, no larger than a pea. He attached the adhesive side to his forearm.
He’d worked hard with personal trainers and learned combat techniques, self-defence, and weapons training from former SAS soldiers. And he’d removed all junk food from his diet to create this new, leaner version of himself.
Bruno was little more than a ghost. The only thing real about him was, ironically, the Echoes.
“My life isn’t a bloody Disney movie,”
With the speed and precision of a Formula One pit stop,
“And by erasing him,” Bianca continued, “we are sending a message to the others—that we are coming for every last one of them. Those who know your true identity are buried deeply, Emilia, and Ted’s death will flush them out. Our deal still stands. We want to help you find the four who remain in the hope that one of them gives you the truth. Somewhere inside you, you know how to find and expose them.”
Not everyone craved the truth. For some, ignorance was a far better option.
“It’s you!” he said. “I thought you were dead?”
And you are responsible for this version of yourself because you were the neuroscientist who created the procedure to implant DNA data into human brains.”

