She gasped, nearly dropping the journal as her vision swam.
Blocked.
If I doubted it before, it's pretty clear now: someone definitely tampered with my memories.
Terror clawed at her throat.
Caspian stirred weakly beneath the sheets, his body shuddering, a broken sound escaping his lips. He called for her in between those broken breaths, and her heart twisted in her chest.
Elara snapped the journal shut.
It didn't matter who had done this to her. It didn't matter that she couldn't remember the cure. What mattered was that if she didn't act now, if she didn't find another way—
Caspian would die.
Just like Kyran had.
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