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I didn’t immediately agree. A
villainess awakening sounded too absurd.
My parents‘ skepticism wasn’t surprising.
And Karry loving me? I didn’t believe it.
We’d been together for six years, and
if I’d sensed even a flicker of love, I
wouldn’t have faked my death. Now, just
because he wasn’t with his destined
heroine and was keeping my ashes didn’t
mean he loved me.
He might have strayed from the novel‘
s original trajectory due to my feigned
death, but who knew if he would still
return to his predestined path one day?
That night, sleep evaded me. I finally drifted off at dawn. When I woke, it was
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afternoon.
I’d slept remarkably well, my
memories hazy, like waking from a dream.
I felt disoriented, unsure of the date.
After a while, my memories returned.
Rushing to the bar, I found Karry
waiting outside, along with several
familiar faces. After I’d mentioned the
bar might be closed, they shouldn’t have
come. But they were all here, gathered
around him.
Karry had brought them.
He smiled as he saw me, his tone
suggestive. “You still came.”
My newly organized memories
dissolved. A moment of confusion
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flickered in my eyes before I regained my
composure.
After greeting the regulars, I
unlocked the door. His immediate
entrance irritated me. I’d left and made
way for him and his childhood sweetheart. Why was he still here instead of being
with Celia?
The bar quickly filled. While
preparing drinks, I wonder why I would feel that way. Since Karry’s arrival, my
memories had been increasingly erratic.
For a moment, I felt like I wasn’t myself.
It was because of Karry. I was sure.
He sat at the bar, ordering the same
margarita as yesterday. It was a simple drink. I placed it before him.“Sir, your
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drink.”
He took the glass but didn’t drink. He
stared at me intently. “My name is Karry
Gatesby.”
“Okay, Mr. Gatesby.”
I acted as if we were strangers. He
was losing patience. Before coming here,
Karry had investigated me.
A month ago, Karry noticed
something was wrong with the Kanes. He
hadn’t seen the grief of losing a daughter
in their eyes. At first, he thought they
were hiding their sorrow.
Then, he discovered a pattern of
overseas transfers from them over the
past six years, uncovering a secret.
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Emily, Evelyn. Identical faces, builds,
ages. One disappeared; the other
appeared. Similar features could be
a
coincidence, but too many similarities.
pointed to one conclusion.
He spoke, his voice certain.“Emily,
how long are you gonna keep hiding?”
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