The orphanage's halls smelled of damp wood and yesterday's stew. Eight year´s old Dol tightened her grip on the banister, staring down at the shadowed foyer below. A single bulb swung from the ceiling, casting flickering light across the faded wallpaper. This was where it all began, she thought bitterly. The place where her life had been stolen.
"Dol," Sister Lima's voice called from the office door, sharp and perfunctory. "You're wanted."
Her stomach churned. She knew what that meant. Another family interview. Another chance to feign enthusiasm, to smile until her cheeks hurt while strangers evaluated her like a piece of livestock. She swallowed the bitterness and descended the stairs, her worn shoes barely making a sound against the creaking wood.
Inside the office, the man sat stiffly on the edge of the chair, his hands clasped tightly. He wasn't like the others, Maya noticed. No polished airs or overly enthusiastic smiles. His eyes were kind but tired, a deep sadness lingering behind them.
"This is Mr. Ganesha," Sister Lima said, her voice softening as it always did for prospective parents. "He's looking for a someone special, his family."
Dol glanced at the door, expecting to see a woman joining him. There was none. Strange.
The man offered a tentative smile. "Hello, Dol," he said gently. "It's nice to meet you."
Before she could respond, movement outside the office caught her attention. A girl, slightly older than Dol, lingered in the doorway. Her eyes darted nervously around the room, but there was something unsettlingly familiar about her presence. She wasn't here for the interview—that much was clear from the ragged state of her clothes and the bruises barely hidden by her long sleeves.
Dol's breath hitched. It was her.
The girl locked eyes with her, and for a moment, time seemed to bend. An onslaught of memories rushed into Dol's mind: a car crash, the smell of burning rubber, and a hospital room where whispered promises dissolved into abandonment. She remembered the girl's face, twisted in desperation. Riya.
A shiver ran down her spine. In her previous life, riya had stolen everything. Her parents, her home, her very identity. And now, here she was, standing on the precipice of another betrayal.
"I…I have to go," Dol stammered, stepping back toward the hallway. The room felt too small, too heavy with the weight of unspoken truths.
"Dol?" Sister lima frowned. "What's wrong?"
Riya's lips curled into a faint smile, a smile Dol recognized all too well—it was the smile of someone who always got what they wanted.
A week ago Dol had regained the memories of her past life while struggling for her life after drowning in the pond at the orphanage, that the children were all told to avoid because of its depth. bustling and noise all around her. a voice louder than the others and how did she get there . she considered that a good question cause she was also unaware. she could also hear this high pitched cry. that belongs to? that is right Riya, cheerful Riya, loved by all.
I remember Riya made me get into that pond. to get lorry her toy that had fallen into the pond and she could not say no, that was an unwritten rule. being a friend of Riya gave a middle grown to being friends with all. deciding on the middle act for peace she begins walking into the pond then searching around she slipped.
Now laying on the bed. She remembers there was nothing. lorry was a big plushier; it would not have been so hard to find lorry. Was that purposefully done? She soon felt a sudden headache, then a lot of memories flooded into her head about her first life. At first she was filled with doubt but the events of the past week made her accept what she has seen and now with this event things are gonna be the same except she did something different.
Dol clenched her fists. looking back at the door of the office. Not this time, I promise to find a different part.