Just as I got up to leave, Claire came in.
“Where are you going?” she asked in a sleepy tone.
Her sudden appearance startled me. “Oh—um, I was thinking about going outside,” I said. “Maybe explore a bit. Maybe… recover my memories.”
“You shouldn’t do that,” she replied, her brows knitting together.
“Why not?”
For a moment, Claire’s expression darkened. “No—you just shouldn’t,” she said firmly. “Going outside is fine, but don’t try too hard to recover your past self. That’s not what you would have wanted.”
What “I” would have wanted?
The question echoed in my mind, pulling old doubts back to the surface. Why would I want to erase my own memories? I remembered thinking Rey had tried to commit suicide—not erase himself. But if that wasn’t the case… then some things began to make sense. The notes in the diary. The way Claire hadn’t been shocked when I failed to recognize her.
If I had wanted this—wanted to forget—then maybe this was intentional.
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But if that were true, then what was the mark?
How did it fit into all of this? How could a mark on my hand be connected to the disappearance of my memories?
I tried to connect the pieces. No—this didn’t feel right. Not like this. Not like that either. Each possibility collapsed the moment I examined it too closely.
In the end, one variable remained.
Claire.
Just who was she?
Did the thing in the mirror have anything to do with her?
I forced myself to breathe and pushed the thoughts aside. Maybe I really had wanted to erase myself—to start over. And maybe Claire was simply here to help me begin again.
For now, I stopped thinking that way.
“Okay,” I said after a long pause.
Warmth returned to Claire’s face, and just like that, she was the cheerful, easygoing woman I knew.
“Where do you want to go then?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I thought maybe you would.”
“Then it’s decided,” she said brightly. “We’ll go wherever I want today.”
She smiled, eyes lighting up.
“Rey, we haven’t gone on a date in forever.”

