Three days since our last meeting on the old bridge, and since then… I feel like I can't breathe.
Arvid hasn't contacted me. But maybe that's what's most disturbing.
Because his silence isn't like someone giving up. But like someone who's watching from afar. Waiting for a gap.
That afternoon, I casually opened Adel's old social media account. One that was hidden from the public. There, I found many things I never realized: hidden photos, short notes, and comments from an account named @v.liema.
I dragged the screen up. One of the comments read:
"You're not a doll, Del. But as long as you live in that house, you'll always belong to them."
The comment was from… Arvid. A year ago.
I was just about to log out when a notification appeared.
Arvid: "Are you stalking your own account?"
My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. He knew.
We met that night, in a neutral place—a rooftop cafe in a downtown hotel. Not too crowded, but bright enough that no one could hide their expressions.
"I see you're active again on your old account," he said, taking a sip of iced coffee. "That's interesting."
I pretended to be calm. "Yeah. I was wondering… who I used to be."
He stared at me. "Are you sure you don't know?"
I held my breath. "What do you mean?"
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes sharp but calm.
"You talk differently now. The way you walk, write, even look at people… has changed. You're slower. More… careful."
I swallowed. "Maybe I changed because of the accident."
"Maybe," he said. "But I also know that Adel never drinks plain tea. You order two of them now."
Silence.
"You also tie your shoelaces in a way that's… not your way."
He leaned forward.
"I'm not trying to blame. I'm just confused: if you're not Adel, who are you?"
My head was buzzing. My hands were shaking, but I forced them to stay on the table.
"If I wasn't her… would you report it? Tell Nathan?"
He shook his head. "No."
I was shocked.
"I just want to know… did you intentionally enter this life, or are you also a victim of something bigger."
I couldn't answer.
Then he stared at me for a long time, deeper.
"And more importantly… are you happy now, or trapped?"
His question cut deep.
I couldn't tell the truth. But I couldn't lie either. So the only answer that came out of my lips was:
"…I don't know yet."
He smiled, but his smile was bitter.
"If one day you want to know who you really are, I can help. But if you're more comfortable pretending to be Adel… I can also pretend not to realize."
On the way home, I felt my whole body cold. Not because of the night wind, but because of something deeper: being found out.
And ironically… it hurt more because it came from Arvid. Not Nathan.
Nathan wanted me too much.
Arvid wanted me too much.
And somewhere between the two, I started to lose control of myself.
[POV: Arvid]
The accident was too clean.
I reread the chronology on my laptop screen. Adel's luxury car, a single collision. No witnesses. No CCTV footage. And strangely enough, no serious injuries on his body... but a coma for two weeks.
Then woke up as someone who... wasn't her.
I knew Adel. Know her very well. Even in her silence, in her anger, in her fear. And the woman who now claims to be her—she may have the same face, but not her soul.
I don't know how to explain it logically. But my heart knows.
And for that, I need proof.
The first step: the hospital where Adel was treated.
I didn't use my own name. Just a fictitious investor's business card and a little legal threat to the receptionist.
It took time, but I finally got access to the medical records. I quickly looked at it: CT scan results, neurology reports, and... an internal memo from one of the doctors that caught my attention.
"The patient showed a discrepancy in the brain wave pattern compared to previous medical records. No major structural injuries, but significant changes in brain activity. Not explained to the family because it was deemed not clinically relevant."
It wasn't just a regular coma. It was like… a system that had been turned off and restarted.
Step two: the scene of the accident.
I went to the location mentioned in the report. A quiet street on the outskirts of town. No signs of a crash, no sign that a major tragedy had ever occurred there.
But there was one odd thing.
Around the corner, there was an old shop. The owner was an old man who looked like he was part of the street itself.
"Excuse me, sir. There was an accident here two months ago. Remember?"
The old man frowned. "A luxury car? A young girl?"
"Yes."
He nodded slowly.
"Strange. The car was destroyed, but the girl… when she was pulled out, she was still breathing. Her eyes were open for a moment. But… the strange thing was, she immediately screamed. But not a scream of pain."
"Scream what?"
The old man shook his head. "She said, 'This isn't my body!'… before she passed out again."
My world stopped for a moment.
"Did you tell the police that?"
"Who would believe me? They thought I was hallucinating."
That night, I sat alone in my apartment, staring at the whiteboard that was now covered in scribbles:
Changes in brain patterns
No serious injuries
Witness: 'This isn't my body'
Drastic personality changes
Plain tea. Shoelaces. Speech.
I didn't know what had happened.
But one thing was for sure:
The real Adelina Gavrila… was probably gone.
And the girl who was now in her body… wasn't just "changed."
She was probably someone else.
I wanted to be angry. Confused. But what emerged instead was… sympathy.
Because the more I investigated, the more I was convinced: whoever was in Adel's body now, she wasn't evil. She looked like someone who had been thrown away by life… and given a second chance, in the wrong place.
I know I should have walked away. Or told Nathan. But every time I think of her eyes—those eyes that tried so hard to act strong—I know one thing:
I won't leave.
I will find out the truth. And when the time comes… I will ask her directly.
"Who are you?"
And whatever her answer is… I will stay by her side.
Because maybe, it's not about who has the right to her body.
It's about who cares most about her soul right now.