Origin (Deridia #13)

Patient.
Prisoner.
No one.

He wakes up in darkness, his throat on fire, his memories gone. No name. No past. Just the number branded on his arm and a sentence he can’t remember earning.

On a desolate prison colony where survival means following the rules—or breaking them first—Ellion struggles to find his footing in a world that offers no mercy. Then there’s Hana. Bright, resilient, and dangerously kind. She knows the rhythms of this place, and for reasons he can't begin to understand, she chooses to help him.

As fragments of memory threaten to return, Ellion must decide who he was, who he wants to be.

And whether Hana is a risk worth taking in a place where trust can cost everything.

-x-

He scrubbed at his face. Drew in as deep a breath as he could. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “I had a rough go when they woke me up. That’s all.”

Her mouth twisted. “One benefit of a lifetime commitment here; I won’t have to get into one of those pods again.”

His head turned sharply. “Lifetime?”

She blinked once, slowly. “Of course. One-way ticket. That was all explained in the literature. Or did you not read it?” Her eyes widened. “Not that it would be bad if you didn’t! I’m sure lots of people don’t. They just want out, and this place isn’t so bad. Pretty sky.” She leaned her head back so she could look. “My pen before was off-planet. Metal everywhere. Like living in a box. There was a porthole, but then it was just... black.” She shivered. Patted her thumb against her knee and then seemed to shove the memory away. “I’m Hana, by the way.”

“Hana,” he repeated. He’d remember it, wouldn’t he? What if he slept that night and it all disappeared again?

“That’s me,” she answered brightly, but it faded quickly into something near to nervousness. “You going to give me yours?”