Sloane tries to remember. She isn’t sure what she’s forgetting, if she thinks too hard about it her thoughts are indecipherable. It’s like having a word on the tip of your tongue, something you know but can’t recall.

She wonders if she’s better off not knowing. When she’s on the verge of a breakthrough, almost able to remember, she’s filled with incredible fear and sorrow as her brain blocks it out. She knows it in her gut, she did something terrible. She’s no stranger to moral ambiguities, with the thievery and semi-legal racing. But this is unlike anything she'd felt before. She couldn’t live with herself if she knew what she did, she was positive.

Sloane couldn’t live with herself if she knew, but she has to know.

This was bigger than just her. The whole city was… wrong. In some imperceptible way she could not describe. To an outside observer, Goldcliff would seem the same as always. Polished and refined, bustling with business. But she knew this city far too well. She knew the way street children played, the way businessmen rushed along. The strange thing about the citizens was that they did not forget. None of them had issues remembering. There was only one other who did, one other who validated her suspicions.

Hurley.

And that’s why she has to know. The details surrounding her girlfriend’s accident were hazy at best. They veered off course during a battlewagon race and were both out for days. Three adventurers brought them to a hospital. Hurley came into contact with silverpoint, Sloane amputated her leg to save her life. She has these memories, they both do, but it all feels fake.

They desperately want to know the truth. That’s who they are. Hurley catches criminals with the militia, Sloane steals to expose corporate greed. Different methods for the same goal.

But she’s been a law-abiding citizen as of late. After her promotion to captain, Hurley finally convinced her to join the force. The Goldcliff Militia has long been filled with corruption, they’ve been working together to weed it out.

It keeps her busy. She doesn’t have time to think about what she can’t think about.

--

“Sloane, I-I think I’ve got something! This might be the lead we’ve been hoping for!” Hurley shouts. Her desk is messy and her voice is frenzied. She’s holding a few papers, which look to be from work.

“What is it?” She pushes the clutter aside, laying down her papers in some sort of order. “So! I’ve been contacting some other militia in major cities, you know, to exchange records and cross reference bad guys? And well, I noticed some familiar names. Well, not too familiar, that’s the breakthrough!” She gives a confident smile, but her girlfriend is still confused. “Taako Taaco, Merle Hitower Highchurch, and Magnus Terry Burnsides! Not only were they the three adventurers who found us, they were at Goldcliff Trust when it got destroyed. I was there for first aid.”

“But, the reason they matter isn’t just that. I have other memories of them! I helped them prep for the race and gave them masks and vests… I’m all for fair play, but I don’t just do that!” She’s on a roll now, and Sloane is starting to understand. “They wracked up a few minor offences while in Goldcliff, one of them tried to steal from a shopkeep. And they display similar patterns in other cities! They’re always there during odd anomalies, committing a few minor crimes, and move quickly from one place to the next. They’ve got to have something to do with this!”

“If we can find them, we find answers!” Sloane’s voice bubbles with excitement. “Babe, you’re brilliant!” She clasps her hand tightly.

“Brilliant, huh? That sounds pretty nice,” she says with pride. “Look, I know you think yo-you did something bad. But I know you, Sloane, you didn’t. And soon I’ll be able to prove it.”

She still doesn’t trust herself. But when Hurley says it like that, she starts to believe it. She was always smarter than her.

--

“What the hell!”

With a greeting like that, her expectations for this visit changed drastically.

She didn’t have much of a right to complain. The fact they even had found one of them was lucky. A friend of Hurley’s detained Merle Highchurch for trespassing, so they quickly scrambled to Neverwinter. Sloane didn’t even have memories of these guys, but from what Hurley had told her, she probably should have anticipated this.

“Is this some sort of prank? Or a dream? Hold on-” He pinches himself. “Nope. So why are you here? Oh shit, you don’t even know me anymore! Do you?”

“Tell me everything you know about us,” Sloane had been on the other end of Hurley’s interrogations before, her fierce yet calm demeanor made her heart flutter.

“Well, uh, you’re Harley, you’re Raven. Raven tried to ▙▙▚▜▝▟▖▗▗▛▛▛▚▝▜▚.” Hearing the noise come out of a human is startling. It sounded like the buzz so often in her brain.

“First off! I’m Hurley, she’s Sloane.” He shrugs. “Second off, I couldn’t understand anything you said after that. What is the cause of the strange fuzzy sounds?”

“Ohh, yeah, forgot about all that. Uhm, sort of hard to explain without more fuzz. What does it matter?”

“We have strange memories and odd absences. We believe you and your friends are the cause of this, and want answers.”

“Um, how should I phrase this. I’ll contact my boss to see if she can help clear things up. Did that come through?” With nods from both, he continues. “Oo-kay. I’m gonna call her up and then it’s out of my hands! So if you don’t get what you’re looking for, wasn’t Merle’s fault.” He pulls a stone of farspeech out, hastily signaling to his boss.

“How did he even get a stone of farspeech in here? His belongings should have been confiscated…” Hurley ponders as they give him some privacy.

“Maybe they should have, but anybody who’s done time knows how to smuggle in a thing or two. I know from experience. ”

“Oh please, it wasn’t your clever intellect that allowed you to bring in goods to your cell. It was my massive crush on you.”

“Hmm, I guess so. But it still worked.” They giggle about it, but they’re both glad they’re done playing emotional cops and robbers.

“Hurley! You’re like… a cop. You can bust me out of the jail, right?” Merle interrupts, clearly done with his conversation.

“Yeah, I’m like a cop, ” She says with amusement, “And I can’t get you out legally, but if it’ll get us answers we can ignore that.”

“You’ll get answers alright!”