Kylie almost had a panic attack. She stared at the doctor. "Get me a mirror, please."
The doctor was stunned by the request and repeated, "A mirror?"
"Yes, quick!" Kylie almost yelled.
Seeing her urgency, the doctor immediately pulled out his phone and opened the camera app for her. "Will this do?"
With shaky hands, Kylie took the phone, and her eyes widened in horror when she saw her own reflection.
Pale skin, bright blue eyes like sapphires, and blonde hair that fell like seaweed. It wasn't just her hand that had changed—her entire body was different!
What the hell is going on?
"Are you okay, Miss Ayla?" the doctor asked cautiously.
Kylie shook her head and handed the phone back to him, her eyes narrowing. "Was I so badly hurt from the fall that you had to change my entire body? I don't get it. What's going on?"
"What?" Cecily, Caleb, and the doctor exchanged confused looks.
Is she going crazy? Cecily thought, a small smile beginning to creep onto her lips.
"Calm down, dear," Cecily said, stepping forward to touch Kylie, but the latter smacked her hand away.
"Doctor, what's happening to her? Is she going crazy?" Caleb voiced his concern. Honestly, it wouldn't be too bad if she did.
"Her brain is going through a lot right now. You'll need to give her some time to process everything," the doctor explained. "Some patients experience an identity crisis after waking up due to anesthesia. It's not uncommon."
"Alright, Doctor," Cecily nodded, though she was innerly disappointed.
"Ayla, do you need anything? You can let the doctor know," Cecily said, turning to face Kylie.
"You've got the wrong person. I SAID I AM NOT AYLA." No way would she let anyone drive her nuts. First, a strange body, and now, a strange name?
Cecily sighed and patted her head anyway. "Yes, dear, you'll recover soon."
"Excuse me? Do I know you?" Kylie snapped, glaring at the unknown woman. Did this lady think that just because she was connected to the organization, she could treat her however she wanted?
Oh no. Not anymore. Anyone tied to the organization was her enemy.
Cecily's eyes widened, genuinely shocked. "What do you mean, Ayla?" She paused mid-step, turning back toward Kylie.
Now she realized something was definitely wrong with the girl.
If she couldn't recognize herself, how could she not recognize her?
Moreover, her behavior was completely different.
Where's the meek, quiet girl?
"I said… who the hell are you?"
"Dammit," Cecily muttered through gritted teeth. She turned to the doctor. "What's happening now, Doctor?"
"Ayla, what about me? Do you recognize me?" Caleb stepped forward, putting his face close to hers.
Kylie frowned in disgust. "Yes, I do."
Just as Caleb's face began to brighten with hope and pride, Kylie's next words crushed him.
"Aren't you this old woman's husband, boyfriend, gigolo, or whatever the hell you are?"
Cecily and Caleb froze, their faces draining of color.
The doctor, equally shocked, cast an awkward glance between the two.
Feeling his gaze, Cecily clenched her fists, struggling to maintain her composure. "Why would you say that, dear? Maybe you should rest."
She turned to the doctor, her voice tight. "This isn't just identity confusion or memory loss. She's hallucinating, isn't she?"
"Yes," Caleb chimed in immediately, nodding. "I'm your husband, Ayla. And we'll always be together, okay?"
"Hus—what?"
"Your husband," Caleb confirmed with a forced smile.
Kylie almost punched him. This man had clearly lost his mind.
"I don't have—nor do I need—a husband," she growled. Not after what men had done to her.
"Ayla, you're not okay," Caleb muttered, sounding disbelieving.
"I'm perfectly fine. I'd feel even better if you got the hell out of my face."
"Ayla, dear, what are you saying?" Cecily tried to intervene, but Kylie silenced her with a glare.
The doctor finally stepped in.
"She's going through a lot right now. It might be memory loss caused by trauma, which is understandable. We'll need to run more tests to check for toxins in her blood and ensure she's stable," he explained, examining Kylie's pale hair.
He remembered when her family had rushed her in, wailing in distress. Her hair had been dull blonde. Now, it was almost white.
A groan from Kylie brought him back to the present. She gripped the bed tightly, her knuckles turning white. Her eyes squeezed shut as if in intense pain.
"Nurse! Wheel her to the emergency unit!"
---
Kylie felt herself drift away as the voices around her faded, her soul floating free.
When she opened her eyes, she was alone, standing in an empty space. A dim light glowed far away, illuminating a path.
Looking around, she realized she was utterly alone.
Remembering the events in the hospital, she quickly checked her hands and let out a relieved sigh. Her tattoos and scars were still there.
"Thank goodness," she muttered.
Turning toward the light, she began walking, but after a few steps, a searing pain exploded in her head. She crumpled to the ground, groaning in agony.
It felt as if her skull was being split open. Foreign memories surged into her mind, causing her eyes to roll back. She tried to resist, but the pain only worsened.
Letting out a strangled gasp, she finally surrendered, allowing the memories to flood her.
As the pain receded, Kylie began to see flashes of another girl's life.
Ayla.
Kylie shook her head, stunned by the girl's image. So that's who they thought she was? But why? They didn't even look alike.
What the hell was going on?
Ayla's memories played out like a cruel movie. She was the product of violence—her mother, Cecily, had been raped, and Ayla was born from that trauma. Cecily loathed Ayla with every fiber of her being.
Ayla had spent her entire life trying to earn Cecily's love, but it was impossible. Her very existence was a painful reminder of Cecily's suffering.