Chapter 3

"Come on, let’s eat," Jethro invited when I made my way to the dining area of the house. I still couldn’t stop myself from glancing around because my life here was completely different from my real one.

"You cooked that?" I asked Jethro when I saw the steaming Beef Steak placed neatly on top of the table.

"This? Of course," he answered confidently. Really? It looked delicious!

The aroma alone was rich and inviting.

Jethro and I took our seats at the six-seater dining table. He led the prayer, and only after we finished did I scoop rice onto my plate.

"W-Where is Mela—I mean—Mom?" I asked him carefully.

"She’s at work. She’ll probably resign soon once she marries her boyfriend. He’s actually asking her to stop working already because he wants to be the one to stand as your father," Jethro explained.

"Really? That’s very kind of him," I replied softly.

"What? Kind? You’ve really changed, Menchie," Jethro teased, clearly unconvinced.

"What are you talking about?"

"Fine! It really does seem like you completely lost your memory, but I’ll still tell you this. Just promise me you won’t tell your mom what I'm going to tell you, okay? She’ll scold me."

"Promise."

Jethro leaned closer to me and began telling the story in a hushed tone.

"Before you went into full amnesia mode, you were furious at your mom because she has a new boyfriend. Truth is you hated the guy so much. That's the reason why you two haven’t even met... or in short, you don't want to meet him."

"W-Why would I be angry when it’s her happiness?" I asked, genuinely confused.

"Because after your parents separated, your mom kept having different boyfriends. Get it? You were closer to your dad, but he couldn’t provide for you, so you ended up living with your mom."

I fell silent for a moment. So the body I now inhabit used to resent her own mother.

"Is that so? Hmm... if that’s the case, then I won’t go back to that kind of setup. If Mela—Mom is happy, then I’m fine with it too," I answered.

"That’s good then. At least your dad will be happy in heaven knowing you and your mom are okay."

"Huh? Why did you say that?"

"Menchie, your dad has been dead for a long time. Drugs. He got depressed, started using dru*gs, and died."

I quietly continued eating, absorbing the tragedy of Menchie’s father’s life. This girl had lived through so much.

"You know, Menchie, I’ve noticed that ever since you came back from the hospital, you’re not used to calling your mom 'Mama'. Did your amnesia really erase everything?" Jethro asked curiously.

"I-I don’t know either," I replied thoughtfully. As I swallowed my food, an idea suddenly formed in my mind. "Jethro, can you help me get to know myself?"

He paused at my request.

"What can I even help with? We mostly did foolish things back then."

"A-Anything. Let’s start with my identity, my family, my background... everything. Please? Can you?"

Jethro studied me for a moment before letting out a deep sigh.

"Alright. Fine."

"Thank you!" I replied eagerly, finishing my meal with renewed appetite.

AFTER WE CLEANED up the dishes, Jethro and I went to my room. He brought several documents containing my identification.

"How do you even know where all of these are kept?" I asked.

"Well, I’ve stayed in your house long enough to know where everything is. Who knows, maybe I’ll inherit this place once you all move to the mansion," he joked.

A few moments later, Jethro spread the papers across the bed. I examined them one by one.

"That’s your birth certificate. Just check your details there," he said.

I read carefully, committing everything to memory. My mother’s name was Melanie Aravo-Robert, and my father was Jerry Robert.

"And these are your childhood photos. Good thing your mom loves writing memories at the back of each picture, so you’ll have an idea of what was happening then," Jethro explained.

I read every handwritten memory behind the photographs. It was strangely touching. Despite Melanie’s sharp personality, she had been attentive and loving toward her daughter... or should I say, toward me.

As I continued gathering information about Menchie Robert with Jethro’s help, I barely noticed the passing time.

"Jethro. Menchie."

We both turned when we heard Melanie—I mean—Mama. Why am I still hesitating? She is my mother here.

"Hurry," Jethro whispered urgently as we quickly hid the documents under the bed.

Just as we finished, Mama entered.

"What are you two doing?" she asked suspiciously.

"This Menchie of yours just regained her strength and started hitting me with pillows. I was just putting them back on the bed," Jethro lied smoothly.

"You should be happy she’s returning to her old self. Anyway, both of you go downstairs. I brought dinner."

We followed her to the dining area, where more food was prepared. Only then did Jethro and I realize we were hungry again, so we began eating.

"Slow down, both of you," Mama scolded lightly.

"Yes, Mama," I replied.

Before continuing, I noticed Mama looking at me differently, as though she found my behavior unfamiliar.

I glanced briefly at Jethro, who continued eating as if nothing unusual had happened.

"I-I’ll leave you two for a moment," Mama said before walking away. I simply ignored her puzzled expression and resumed eating.

Now that I know at least something about Menchie Robert’s identity, what should I do next?

Is my real family still alive in this world?

I want to find them....

I need to find them.