Julian had learned something important about Silas.
Silas noticed changes.
Not just obvious ones.
Small ones.
A pause before an answer. A glance toward a door. A hand that moved differently when someone was nervous.
Silas collected those details the way other people collected evidence.
So Julian stopped giving him anything real.
For the next two days, he became predictable.
He ate when he was told.
Rested when he was expected to.
Answered questions without asking too many of his own.
He even stopped looking toward the wardrobe.
If Silas was watching, Julian wanted him to believe the discovery from the previous night had changed nothing.
It hadn't.
It had changed everything.
But Julian had no intention of showing him.
That afternoon, Silas entered carrying a cup of coffee.
"You seem better," he said.
Julian looked up from the book in his hands.
"Do I?"
"More settled."
Julian smiled faintly.
"Maybe I am."
Silas placed the cup on the table.
He studied Julian for a moment.
"You haven't asked me anything lately."
"I've been tired of asking."
"That's unusual."
"Maybe I'm learning."
Something flickered across Silas's expression.
Interest.
Julian noticed.
He lowered his gaze back to the book.
A few seconds passed.
Then Julian spoke casually.
"I remembered something yesterday."
Silas didn't move.
But his attention sharpened immediately.
"What?"
Julian turned a page.
"A place."
"What place?"
There.
Too quick.
Julian looked up.
"I don't know if it matters."
Silas's expression remained calm.
"Tell me anyway."
Julian hesitated.
Just long enough to make the lie believable.
"An old building."
Silas waited.
"Near the eastern district."
Silence.
Julian watched him carefully.
Nothing obvious.
No reaction.
Then he added, "I think it was called the Marlowe."
Silas's fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the table.
There.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
But Julian saw it.
"You've heard of it," Julian said.
Silas released the table.
"No."
Another lie.
Julian smiled.
"Right."
Silas's gaze narrowed.
"What makes you think you've been there?"
"I don't know."
"Do you remember anything else?"
"A hallway."
Silas said nothing.
"A red door."
Still nothing.
"And someone waiting outside."
Silas's eyes changed.
Just slightly.
But enough.
Julian closed the book.
"Does that sound familiar?"
"No."
The answer came too smoothly this time.
Julian leaned back.
"Interesting."
Silas watched him.
"You're testing me."
It wasn't a question.
Julian's smile disappeared.
"So you do know the place."
Silas didn't answer.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Not because Silas had moved.
Because something between them had shifted.
"You lied," Silas said quietly.
Julian held his gaze.
"So did you."
A long silence followed.
Silas finally pulled out the chair opposite him and sat.
"You made up the memory."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To see what you'd do."
Silas studied him.
Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.
Not warmly.
Not angrily.
Almost proudly.
"You're becoming difficult."
Julian's expression remained neutral.
"Maybe I always was."
That sentence landed differently.
For the first time, Silas didn't immediately respond.
Julian noticed.
His former self had known how to do this.
Not overpower.
Not confront.
Observe.
Let the other person reveal themselves.
"What is the Marlowe?" Julian asked.
Silas leaned back.
"You don't remember it."
"No."
"Then leave it alone."
"Why?"
"Because some places are better left forgotten."
Julian's eyes sharpened.
"That sounds familiar."
Silas's gaze held his.
"Does it?"
"Yes."
Silence.
Then Silas stood.
The conversation was over.
Julian knew it.
But before Silas reached the door, Julian spoke again.
"You've been there."
Silas stopped.
Julian waited.
Slowly, Silas looked over his shoulder.
"Yes."
One word.
The answer hit harder than Julian expected.
"You knew it was a lie because you've been there."
Silas turned around fully.
"I knew because I know you."
Julian's eyes narrowed.
"No."
Silas waited.
"You knew because I was there."
Silence.
Silas didn't deny it.
Julian felt something cold settle in his chest.
Not fear.
Recognition.
The location wasn't just connected to Silas.
It was connected to him.
To the version of himself that existed before the hospital.
"Why was I there?" Julian asked.
Silas's expression became unreadable.
"You aren't ready to know."
Julian almost laughed.
The words were so familiar.
Every answer was always the same.
Not yet.
You aren't ready.
It's better this way.
Julian looked down at his hands.
Then back at Silas.
"I think I've heard that before."
Silas didn't respond.
Instead, he walked toward the door.
Julian watched him leave.
The door closed.
He remained still.
The test had worked.
But not in the way he expected.
He had wanted to know whether Silas recognized the Marlowe.
He hadn't expected Silas to admit that he had been there.
More importantly—
Silas hadn't asked the most important question.
He hadn't asked how Julian remembered the name.
Because perhaps he already knew.
Julian stood.
His gaze shifted toward the wardrobe.
The hidden device was still there.
The recording echoed in his mind.
Silas is part of the problem. But he's not the beginning.
Julian understood something now.
The Marlowe might not be the beginning either.
But it was connected to something.
Something Silas didn't want him to remember.
Julian reached for his phone.
He opened the conversation with A.
His thumb hovered over the screen.
Then he typed.
I found the place.
He stared at the words.
He didn't send them.
Instead, he deleted them.
A warning from his former self returned to him.
Don't trust the first answer.
Julian locked the phone.
If A had wanted him to find the Marlowe, there was a reason.
And if Silas was afraid of it, there was another.
He wasn't going to walk into either trap blindly.
Not anymore.
Julian looked toward the door.
For weeks, he'd been trying to understand the person everyone insisted he had been.
Now, for the first time, he realized something else.
Maybe he didn't need to become that person again.
Maybe he needed to understand why that person had made the choices he did.
And somewhere inside that answer was the truth about the memory loss.
The truth about Silas.
And eventually—
the truth about Locke.
Julian's expression hardened.
He had tested Silas.
Silas had given him an answer.
Now it was Julian's turn to decide what to do with it.