Amara—or rather, the person now inhabiting Amara Stone's body—sat on the hospital bed, her heart pounding as the door opened and a middle-aged white man in a white coat walked in. His kind face was lined with years of experience, and his name badge read "Dr. Matthews." He carried a clipboard in one hand and offered a professional but warm smile.
"Good morning, Miss Stone," he greeted, pulling up a stool beside her bed. "How are you feeling today?"
Amara hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts. She couldn't exactly explain that she wasn't the person he thought she was. "I, uh… I feel okay, I guess," she said cautiously.
Dr. Matthews nodded, his pen poised over his clipboard. "That's good to hear. Let's go over a few things, just to check your cognitive and physical recovery. Do you remember what happened before you were brought to the hospital?"
Amara swallowed hard, trying to hide her panic. "No," she said truthfully, her voice soft. "I don't remember anything."
The doctor didn't seem surprised. He scribbled something on his clipboard before looking back at her. "That's not unusual after a head injury. Memory loss can occur when there's trauma to the brain. How about your name? Do you remember that?"
Amara nodded. "Amara Stone, so I was told earlier on" she said, testing the name Amara Stone on her tongue. It still felt strange, like wearing a dress that didn't fit quite right.
Dr. Matthews smiled faintly. "Good. That's a start. Do you remember any details about your life? Family, friends, where you live?"
Amara shook her head. "No. It's all… blank."
Dr. Matthews leaned back slightly, his expression sympathetic. "That's okay. Head injuries can be tricky. Sometimes memories return gradually, and sometimes they don't. We'll run some scans to see if there's any swelling or damage, but for now, let's focus on your physical health."
He spent the next few minutes conducting routine checks—testing her reflexes, shining a light into her eyes, and asking if she felt any pain in her limbs. Amara answered his questions as best as she could, grateful that none of the tests revealed anything alarming.
"Well," Dr. Matthews said, standing and gathering his things, "physically, you seem to be healing well. That's a good sign. I'll schedule a CT scan for later today to get a clearer picture of what's going on with your memory. In the meantime, try to rest and don't push yourself too hard."
"Thank you, Doctor," Amara said, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her mind.
Dr. Matthews gave her a reassuring nod before excusing himself and leaving the room.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Amara swung her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cold floor. She moved cautiously, her head still throbbing slightly from the injury, but curiosity burned inside her.
She tiptoed to the door and pressed her ear against it, straining to catch the conversation outside.
"Her injuries are healing well," Dr. Matthews was saying. "But the blow to her head likely caused some temporary memory loss. It's not uncommon in cases like this. For now, she doesn't seem to recall much about her past, but that doesn't mean the memories won't return. We'll run some scans to confirm there's no lasting damage, but in the meantime, I'd advise you to help her gently reorient herself. Share details about her life, but don't overwhelm her. She needs time to process."
"Thank you, Doctor," came the voice of the young Latina woman from earlier. Her tone was filled with relief, but there was also an edge of guilt.
Before Amara could process that, a man's voice cut through the air like a blade. It was deep and filled with barely restrained anger.
"How the hell did this happen?" the man demanded, his voice rising with every word.
Amara winced at the harshness, her curiosity piqued as she leaned closer to the door.
"I told you, Eduardo, it was an accident," the young woman said, her voice wavering. "I don't know exactly how it happened. She… she just ran off, and I—"
"You were supposed to be watching her, Sofia!" Eduardo bellowed, cutting her off. "Do you have any idea what could've happened? Do you understand how bad this could've been?"
"I know!" Sofia snapped back, her voice filled with frustration and guilt. "Do you think I wanted this? I've been trying to manage everything while she's been spiraling, but it's not easy, Eduardo!"
"Spiraling?" Eduardo shot back. "She's been spiraling because no one in her life knows how to control her. Including you!"
There was a long pause, the tension outside palpable even through the door.
"You think I haven't tried?" Sofia said finally, her voice quieter but no less intense. "I've done everything I can to keep her safe, but Amara doesn't listen. She's stubborn, reckless—"
"She's your responsibility," Eduardo interrupted, his tone sharp. "And this—this mess—is on you."
Amara's heart pounded as she processed the exchange. Sofia and Eduardo clearly cared about "Amara," but their emotions were running high, and the weight of the situation was evident.
The voices grew fainter as they moved down the hallway, leaving Amara alone with her thoughts. She stepped back from the door and sank onto the edge of the bed, her mind racing.
"Spiraling," she murmured to herself. The word echoed in her mind, painting a picture of chaos and turmoil. Whoever Amara Stone was, she hadn't been in a good place before the accident.
Amara ran her fingers through her hair, or rather the hair of the body she now inhabited. The more she learned about this life, the more complicated it seemed. What had led "her" to this point? And how was she supposed to navigate a world she didn't belong to?
Her thoughts drifted back to Eduardo's words, his anger and concern. "Your responsibility," he'd said to Sofia. Amara wondered about their relationship. Was Sofia a sister? A close friend?
And what about Eduardo? His tone suggested authority—was he a family member, a manager, or something else?
Amara closed her eyes, exhaustion creeping in. She couldn't piece it all together now, but one thing was clear: she was trapped in a life that wasn't hers, surrounded by people who expected her to be someone she wasn't.
And she had no idea how to begin unraveling the truth.
"I have to figure out who I am," she whispered to herself.
Her eyes fell on the chair in the corner of the room, where a neatly folded set of clothes and a bag rested. They had been there when she first woke up, untouched. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and walked over, her steps hesitant but determined.
Starting with the bag, she unzipped it and rummaged through the contents. Her fingers brushed against something hard and rectangular. She pulled it out, revealing a sleek leather wallet. Opening it, she found cash, a few credit cards, and finally, an ID card.
Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the name printed boldly across the top:
Amara Stone
The photo next to the name was unmistakably the face she'd seen in the mirror earlier. Her heart raced as she traced the edges of the card with her fingers. So this was who she was supposed to be now—a woman with an entirely different life.
She tucked the ID back into the wallet and continued searching the bag. Her hand brushed against something cold and metallic. Pulling it out, she gasped.
An iPhone 15.
Rain Johnson had never owned a phone this luxurious. She could barely believe the slim, gleaming device was hers—or rather, Amara's.
With trembling fingers, she pressed the side button. The screen lit up, and to her surprise, it didn't require a passcode. Instead, the fingerprint scanner instantly unlocked it. Rain's breath caught. This was real. This was hers—or at least, it belonged to the body she now occupied.
She stared at the home screen, overwhelmed by the possibilities. "Let's start with the basics," she murmured. She opened the browser app and typed in the name Amara Stone.
The search results loaded instantly, and Rain's eyes widened. The first entry that popped up was a Wikipedia page titled Amara Stone – Singer, Actress, and Social Media Sensation.
Rain's hand flew to her mouth, nearly dropping the phone. "A superstar?" she whispered in disbelief.
Curiosity and panic battled within her as she clicked on the link. Her eyes skimmed over the page, taking in the details.
---
Amara Stone
Born: July 14, 1999
Profession: Singer, actress, social media influencer
Notable Works: "Golden Hour" (album), City of Stars (movie)
Amara Stone rose to fame at the age of 19 after her debut single "Euphoria" went viral. Known for her stunning vocals and magnetic stage presence, she quickly became a household name. In addition to her music career, Amara has starred in several blockbuster films and is a prominent figure in fashion and beauty.
---
Rain closed her eyes, her head spinning. The life described on the page was worlds away from the one she'd lived. Amara was famous, glamorous, and adored by millions. Rain was a girl who had spent most of her days in hospital rooms, wishing for freedom.
Scrolling further, she saw headlines about Amara's personal life: rumors of a tumultuous relationship, public feuds, and wild parties. One article speculated about her mental health, referencing a recent "scandal" involving reckless behavior.
Rain's chest tightened. So this was why the people outside her door had been arguing. Amara's life seemed far from perfect despite her fame and fortune.
She exited the Wikipedia page and clicked on the "Images" tab in the search results. Dozens of pictures of Amara filled the screen—on stage in glittering costumes, walking red carpets, posing with celebrities. In every photo, her face was radiant, her smile dazzling.
Rain's hands trembled as she set the phone down on the bed. "How… how am I supposed to live this life?" she whispered.
She looked around the hospital room, the reality of her situation sinking in. The Christmas decorations and the warmth of the place now felt distant and unreal. She wasn't just in a different body; she was in a different world.
Her attention returned to the phone. It had answers, she was sure of it. Rain opened the social media apps, starting with Instagram. Amara had over 50 million followers. Rain's jaw dropped as she scrolled through the photos—candid shots, professional photoshoots, and videos of Amara addressing her fans.
One post caught her eye. It was a video taken just days before the accident. In it, Amara stood on a balcony overlooking a city skyline, her expression distant. The caption read: "Sometimes, even the brightest lights cast the darkest shadows."
Rain felt a pang of sadness. The words hinted at a deeper pain beneath the glamorous surface. She closed the app, unable to look at any more.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, making her jump. A text notification popped up.
Sofia: I'm coming back to your room. We need to talk.
Rain's heart raced. Sofia was the Latina girl who had confronted her in the hallway. The same girl who seemed deeply involved in Amara's life—and possibly her accident.
Rain set the phone down, her mind spinning. What would she say to Sofia? She couldn't admit the truth, but pretending to be Amara felt impossible too.
The door opened, and Sofia walked in, her expression a mix of worry and determination. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe, studying Rain with a critical eye.
"You've been quiet," Sofia said, her tone soft but probing. "I guess Dr. Matthews told you about the memory loss?"
Rain nodded cautiously. "Yeah. He said it might take time for everything to come back."
Sofia sighed, stepping closer. "I don't know how much you remember, but… I'm here for you, okay? We've been through a lot together. I'll help you figure this out."
Rain nodded again, grateful for Sofia's offer, even if it came with strings she didn't yet understand.
Sofia hesitated before adding, "But you scared the hell out of me, Amara. Running off like that… I thought I'd lost you."
Rain frowned. "Running off?"
Sofia bit her lip, clearly debating how much to say. "You don't remember, do you?"
"No," Rain said honestly.
Sofia sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes distant. "You've been struggling lately. The pressure, the rumors, everything… it's been a lot. You said you needed space, and I thought you'd just gone for a drive or something. But then… then the accident happened."
Rain's stomach churned. "What kind of accident?"
Sofia shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "It doesn't matter now. What matters is that you're here, alive. And we're going to get through this together."
Rain swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. She felt like a fraud accepting Sofia's support, but she couldn't reveal the truth—not yet.
"I'm sorry for everything"
Sofia was in shock and Rain wondered why she was shocked for hearing her say sorry. Then she nodded her head.
Sofia stood, brushing away her tears. "I'll let you rest. But if you need anything, call me. You have my number."
Rain nodded, watching as Sofia left the room. As soon as the door closed, she picked up the phone again, her resolve hardening.
If she was going to survive in Amara's world, she needed to learn everything she could about the life she'd inherited.