I Chose the Memory Editor Job as a Joke and Accidentally Learned My Own Life Was Edited

Towa made a living by looking wrong in public and right where it counted. She edited memories for clients who wanted clean days, missing fears, and smooth family talk, and she kept her own face calm while her chest tightened over every bad choice. Then one missing stretch in her past turned into a face she could not forget, a woman with a split mouth who seemed less like a monster than someone who had been broken by careful hands. Towa still kept her work neat. She still spoke lightly when people doubted her. The problem was that her own memory did not line up with the woman she had become, and the people who wanted her skill were the same people who might have rewritten her first.