I should’ve known it was coming. The way she leaned in a little closer. The way she watched me like I was a puzzle she thought she could solve. Sophia was never a fool, but neither was I.I let the silence linger, thick and suffocating, as her eyes stayed locked on mine. There was something else there, something more than the usual curiosity.Sophia had always been good at reading people. Better than most. And it was clear now.she wasn’t asking about Caitlin because she cared. She was asking because she needed something. Needed to be close to me. And the way she said my name...low, almost intimate, brought it all rushing back.That night. That damn night.Sophia was still standing in front of me, her presence suffocating, her eyes demanding answers. She knew I remembered that night, just as clearly as I could recall the way Caitlin's fingers used to trace patterns across my skin. It was a hard memory to bury, but it was one I had to lock away when Caitlin came into my life.She ha
Caitlin’s POV:The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the overhead lights. The walls were warm-toned, meant to soothe. Dylan’s private suite tucked away in some forgotten part of the city, had been designed to feel like a sanctuary.But it didn’t.Not to me.I sat up slowly, my body still aching in places I didn't understand yet.My face felt tight, strange, unfamiliar. Bandages still clung to the edges of my jaw and cheekbones, like silk restraints.I hadn't spoken much since the surgery. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear my voice yet. What if it sounded different too?Dylan stood at the foot of the bed, his gloved hands precise, his expression unreadable. His posture was careful, almost reverent, like he was handling something sacred. I couldn’t tell if that something was me or the mask he had crafted for me.“You ready?” he asked, voice low and even.I wasn’t.But I nodded.He moved gently, unwinding the gauze one layer at a time, revealing the stranger I had agreed to become.
The steam from the bathroom curled in soft clouds around me, making the world feel distant and muffled. It was just me, the warm water, and a moment of solitude I hadn’t had in what felt like forever. My body was still adjusting to everything. My new face, my new life, and even though I’d been trying to avoid mirrors, the comfort of the hot water was something I could hold onto, at least for a few minutes.I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair, letting the water rush over me, and closed my eyes, the noise of the world outside muffled by the soft hum of the shower. For a brief second, I let myself forget. Forget the new life Dylan had forced on me. Forget that I wasn’t Caitlin Gallagher anymore.And then the door to the bathroom opened.I froze.For a heartbeat, I thought it was just the steam making me paranoid, or maybe it was one of those moments where your mind plays tricks on you. But no.The door creaked open, and Dylan walked in.He was just standing there for a second, frozen,
I sat by the large window in the living room, staring out at the rolling hills beyond, but I wasn’t really seeing any of it. My thoughts were too tangled in the mess of everything that had happened in the past few days, in the strange, unsettling dance between me and Dylan.I ran my fingers through my hair, the weight of it dragging my thoughts down further. I felt… lost. Not just physically, but emotionally. Everything around me was so pristine, so perfect, and yet I couldn’t shake the sense of suffocation that had settled over me since I woke up here.Dylan had left the house earlier, something about work or a meeting or whatever it was that kept him out of the house so often. He hadn’t said much, just a quiet goodbye as he slipped out the door. Part of me felt relieved, like I could finally breathe without the weight of his gaze on me. But then there was another part of me, one that wasn’t so sure about being left alone with my thoughts.I stood and moved towards the kitchen, a
Every room I entered felt foreign, like I was walking through someone else’s life, someone else’s story. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt truly at home anywhere. Not with Aiden, not here.I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, staring at the woman who had once been me. The woman who wore a face that was hers, but not hers. A woman who was no longer recognized by her past, who now wore a mask of someone else’s making.The weight of it, the weight of everything, pressed down on me. And as I reached for the toothpaste, I found my hand trembling.I hadn’t expected it to hit me like this. The quiet, the stillness, the way Dylan kept slipping in and out of my life. Always there, but never truly there. I thought the quiet would soothe me, would give me a sense of peace. But it felt more like a cage. One with no bars, no chains. Just walls that kept closing in.I squeezed the toothpaste onto my brush, the cold metal of the tube feeling too heavy in my hands. The sound of
Something I couldn't quite name, had been building between us ever since the surgery, ever since I first woke up in Dylan’s care. I’d seen the way his eyes lingered on me, how he looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. There was always a moment when our gazes would lock, and I’d feel something in the pit of my stomach twist, like we were both standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the other to fall.I wasn’t sure if I was ready for whatever this was.But I also wasn’t sure I could keep ignoring it.That morning, the house felt different. More silent than usual. I could hear the rustle of his clothes from the other side of the hallway, the soft thud of his boots as he moved around. It should’ve been comforting. But there was something about the way he moved that made my skin tingle, something predatory in the way he shifted between spaces, never fully looking at me but always aware of me.I took a breath and tried to center myself. I needed to get through the da
The morning after didn’t feel like morning at all.The light leaking through the curtains was soft and forgiving, but everything else was sharp. The weight of what we’d done pressed down on my chest like a stone. I hadn’t slept much. I doubted Dylan had either. He hadn’t said a word when he got out of bed, just pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.Now I sat on the edge of the mattress, clutching the sheet to my chest, listening to the sound of running water.It should have felt like something good. Like a release.Instead, it felt like a beginning I didn’t ask for.The bathroom door creaked open. Dylan stepped out, towel slung low around his hips, hair damp, eyes unreadable. He paused when he saw me still sitting there, like he wasn’t sure how to break the silence between us.I beat him to it. “You called me Emily.”His jaw tightened. “Last night?”I nodded, eyes locked on him. “More than once.”He rubbed a hand down his face, then turned awa
Dylan sat next to me, his hand resting on the seat between us, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to touch me but was unsure whether to do so.I kept my gaze fixed out of the window, watching the city lights blur into a haze of color. It almost felt like I was in a dream. But it wasn’t a dream, it was my life now. Or at least, a life I had to pretend was mine.I wanted to ask Dylan a thousand questions. I wanted to scream, to demand answers. What was he really asking of me? Why was he so insistent that I become Emily, that I wear her life like a second skin? But every time I opened my mouth, the words felt too heavy to speak.Instead, I turned to him, just enough to catch his profile in the dim light of the car. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed in a way that suggested he was lost in his thoughts as much as I was in mine.“Dylan,” I said softly, breaking the silence. “What happens when they see through it? When they realize I’m not her?”He glanced at me, his eyes flickering wit
I didn’t cry.I thought I would.I thought I’d make it to the elevator and fall apart, slide down the wall and sob until my throat cracked. But I didn’t.I rode the elevator down like I was made of steel. Hands still clenched. Face still burning.The lobby lights buzzed overhead. The security guard gave me a stiff, polite nod, like nothing was wrong. Like I hadn’t just stood in the same room as the man who reprogrammed my body and tried to erase my soul.I nodded back.Because that’s the game, isn’t it?Pretend nothing’s bleeding.Pretend you’re not drowning.Pretend you didn’t just learn you were built.It was cold outside. Not winter-cold. But the kind that sneaks under your skin when you’re already brittle inside. My heels clicked across the pavement as I walked to my car, and every sound felt too loud. Like the world was trying to draw attention to me. Like it knew.I sat behind the wheel with the engine off for a long time.Not thinking. Not planning. Just existing.And even tha
I left Dylan’s apartment without looking back.He didn’t try to stop me. Just stood there, silent, like a man watching a fire he didn’t bother putting out. And maybe that was the truth, maybe I was always meant to burn.I drove until I couldn’t feel my fingers on the wheel. Ended up in a parking garage, staring at nothing, chewing on the edge of a panic attack.Then I opened the flash drive again.Not on my laptop this time. On a secure system. A hacker friend from my undergrad days owed me favors, and I called one in. Said I needed everything decrypted. Hidden files. Metadata. Time stamps. Anything.They called me an hour later, voice low and clipped.“There’s a hidden folder. You didn’t see it.”I hadn’t.I went back, followed the breadcrumb they gave me.Inside were audio logs, notes, screenshots of messages, even therapy session transcriptions. And a folder marked...“HER”.My hands shook as I opened it.Dozens of photos.All of me.Years back, Surveillance stills, Social media scr
I didn't sleep there. How could I? I drove until the sky went pale, then parked in a grocery store lot and sat there, staring at my reflection in the rearview mirror. I didn’t recognize the woman looking back. Eyes ringed in black, lips chewed raw, heart ticking like a bomb.Emily knew me.Not “knew of me.” Not guessed or imagined.She said my name.I kept playing the message in my head, those last words, like she was whispering straight through time, through death, into my ear. “Don’t trust either of them.”How did she know?And why did it feel like I was already too late?By 8 a.m., I was parked outside a library. Not mine. Not local. A town over. Somewhere neutral. I signed onto a public computer with trembling fingers and searched for anything. Old records. Articles. Social media scraps. There was almost nothing about Emily after her death. Just sanitized obituaries and half-hearted blog posts about water safety.But I wasn’t looking for her anymore.I was looking for me.I dug
I didn’t go home.Home felt like a place for people with answers. People who knew what side they were on. I didn’t know anything anymore.Who was I running from? And who was I even running to? So I found a diner. One of those nowhere-places with cracked vinyl booths and a jukebox that hadn’t worked since the 90s. I sat in the corner, hunched over my laptop, the flash drive clenched in my fist like a trigger.I hesitated before plugging it in.Part of me already knew this wouldn’t be something I could unsee.The drive had one folder./EMILY/Inside were three files.Audio_Log_06.m4aJuly_14_CamFootage.mp4Letter_To_Caitlin.docxThat last one hit me like a brick.Letter to Caitlin.I never met her. Not once. I only knew Emily from Dylan’s stories. From the quiet grief in his voice when he mentioned her. From the wedding photos still shoved in a box in our closet. She was a ghost in my life. Beautiful, Tragic and Untouchable.How the hell did she know my name?I opened the letter.> Ca
I didn’t want to go.But the invite, or more accurately, the command, was sitting in my calendar like a trap with a blinking countdown. “Meeting with Mr. Gallagher. 12:05 PM.”Of course he’d make it five minutes after noon. A power play. Make me sweat.I stared at the screen a moment longer than I should’ve, then stood. My legs were shaky, even though I tried to play it cool. Everyone was still pretending not to watch, but I felt it. The tension when I passed someone’s desk. The fake typing that stopped just long enough to eavesdrop.I hated them. I hated how they looked at me now, like I was some broken puzzle they couldn’t wait to solve. Like a scandal in heels.When I reached Aiden’s office, I hesitated for half a second. Just long enough for my nerves to kick. Then I opened the door.He was already standing. Backlit by the floor-to-ceiling windows, crisp and composed in a suit too perfect for someone with a heart so rotted.He didn’t say a word as he stepped around the desk and c
The morning air felt unusually thick as I returned the office building, the weight of the previous day still lingering in my chest. I had to quickly finished the tasks at hand before Aiden would ask for it.I pressed the button for the elevator, hearing the soft hum of whispers that echoed from the lobby. “… Did you hear? Mr. Gallagher spent hours in his office with Emily yesterday. Alone. I thought they just worked together on the big reports?”“Yeah, but did you hear what he called her?” A second voice whispered. “I swear, he called her Caitlin. I thought her name was Emily?”“Wait, what? Are you sure?”“I heard it too. Something’s up with those two, that’s for sure…”The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside, trying to ignore the rising tension in the air. It was hard not to notice the undercurrents of gossip, the shifting glances from people who weren’t even trying to hide their curiosity.As the doors closed, I sighed and leaned against the wall, willing myself to shak
The day had barely begun when I found myself standing at my desk, a stack of files before me. The office buzzed with the usual hum of conversations, clicking keyboards, and ringing phones. But for me, everything felt muted, distant. I couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened earlier. Aiden’s words had burrowed into my mind, and despite my best efforts to shake them off, they lingered like a shadow over my thoughts.I was determined to push past it. I was stronger now. At least, that’s what I told myself.But that resolve was put to the test the moment I saw Aiden emerge from his office. His sharp suit and imposing presence commanded the room, and everyone seemed to freeze in their tracks as he walked through the floor. I tried to focus on my work, my eyes fixed on the screen, but I could feel his gaze sweeping across the room, his eyes lingering on me for a fraction of a second longer than necessary.And then, I heard his voice."Caitlin." He called out, his tone smooth, too
The morning after, I woke up to an unsettling quiet. The kind of quiet that, for most people, would signify peace. But for me, it was like a raw wound still too tender to touch. My first peaceful night under Dylan's roof had been a relief, a balm to the wounds that Aiden’s presence had left on me. I had expected to wake up feeling safer, more at ease, but instead, the dread still clung to me like a shadow.Dylan had left early for work, but his absence felt comforting, as if he had given me the space I needed to begin reclaiming some semblance of normality. I sat in the living room, sipping my tea, trying to gather the strength to start my day. The phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling me from my thoughts. It was a text from my work.“Emily, the company expects you to come in today. We’re a bit behind. Hope you’re feeling better. See you soon!”I stared at the message for a long moment, the weight of it sinking in. Going back to the office meant facing the reality of everythin
The drive back to Dylan’s house felt surreal. The air seemed to shimmer with a sense of possibility, but there was still an undercurrent of caution running through me, as if I was unsure whether I could truly trust the peace I felt, or if it was just a fleeting illusion. My hands rested on my lap, and for the first time in ages, I didn’t feel the urge to clutch my body in a defensive posture. I didn’t feel the weight of Aiden’s presence looming behind me, controlling my every move. The physical relief was immense, but the emotional burden was still there, heavy and complex.Dylan glanced at me as we drove, his face drawn, like he was balancing a thousand thoughts, but he didn’t rush me. He didn’t push me for anything more than what I was willing to give. His silence was comforting, as if he was giving me space to breathe, space to think, while also showing that he was there, unwavering in his presence.The road seemed to stretch endlessly before us. The soft hum of the tires on asph