Semua Bab His Name Was Never Mine: Bab 11 - Bab 20

It was raining by the time August got back to the dorm.Not the kind of soft rain that lulled him to sleep, but a relentless downpour that blurred the world, distorted the lights, made the concrete shimmer like glass. His shoes were soaked. His heart pounded.Ash’s voice still echoed in his skull.I never stopped being yours. I lived as you. I didn’t know how to live without you.August slammed the door shut behind him, half-expecting Ash to already be inside. But the room was empty. Cold. Quiet. He stood there for a long time, fingers trembling around the wet strap of his bag, unsure of what to do next.He didn’t sleep that night. Couldn’t.Instead, he opened his laptop and began searching tracing the same path Ash must’ve taken. The orphanage. The fire that closed it. Court records sealed. Mentions of unethical psychological testing under the guise of “cognitive empathy development.” A handful of names. No mention of August Hale at least not two of them.His name wasn’t real. Or ma

August didn’t sleep that night.Even with Chris sitting nearby. Even with the doors locked and the windows shut.The images from his room haunted him Ash’s obsession made physical. Photos that shouldn’t exist. Angles August didn’t even remember being seen from. Years’ worth of stolen glances, compiled like a shrine.But the worst part wasn’t the invasion.It was the fear that some part of August had always known.That this wasn’t sudden. It had always been creeping in.By morning, Chris looked just as haunted.“We need to tell someone,” he said. “The school. Campus security. Or the police.”August’s fingers tightened around his cup of tea. “And say what? That a guy who legally doesn’t exist anymore broke into my room, covered the walls in photos, and is stealing my life?”Chris glared. “That’s exactly what we say.”“No,” August whispered. “Not yet. If I report him, he’ll disappear. Just like last time.”Chris flinched. “There was a last time?”August nodded. “Years ago. In high school

August didn’t sleep that night.Even with Chris awake beside him, quietly flipping through the few documents they’d recovered birth certificates, old orphanage records, letters from adoption agencies August felt like he was unspooling.He kept looking at the photograph Ash gave him. The edges were soft with age, the boys’ faces smudged slightly with time. But the way they leaned into each other it was intimate. Familiar. Twin like.But which one was him?He ran a finger over the image until his skin tingled, until the question stopped feeling rhetorical and started feeling dangerous.Who was I before someone gave me a name?Chris’s voice broke the silence. “You should destroy that picture.”“I can’t.”“You don’t need proof of what he’s done. You already lived it.”August stared down at the boys in the photo.“I think he really believes he’s me,” he whispered.Chris shut the file in his hand and stood. “That’s the problem, August. You’re trying to understand him. But he’s not just some

The envelope stayed in August’s coat pocket the rest of the day. Heavy. It bent slightly when he sat. It crinkled with every step. It might as well have screamed: This changes everything.He didn’t go home.Didn’t text anyone.By 11:32 p.m., he was back at the old music hall.The room was dark now. A few beams of moonlight cut through the broken slats above. And there just as promised Ash sat on the piano bench, back straight, hands folded.He didn’t look up when August entered. Just said:“You came.”August didn’t answer.Ash patted the space beside him on the bench. “Sit.”“I’m not here to play games,” August replied.“Neither am I.” Ash looked up at him. “But I meant what I said. One last time. Choose who you want to be. Not the version they expect. Not the one they took. Just… you.”August sat. But didn’t let the envelope go.He pulled it out, placing it between them like a loaded gun.“What’s in it?” he asked.Ash turned slightly. “Records. School files. Medical history. My note

The campus looked different when you walked it without pretending to be someone else.Ash kept his head low, his hoodie up. People stared whispers trailing behind him like smoke. After the dean’s announcement, the whole university was buzzing. Not about a scandal. About him.He wasn’t August Hale anymore. He was Ash Wolfe. And for the first time in his life, that name wasn’t something he needed to apologize for.But walking alone felt…hollow.He didn’t expect August to forgive him completely. The boy had given him a chance, not a heart. Those were different things.Still, every time Ash passed the literature building, he hoped for a glimpse of him.The real August.Inside the library, August sat between rows of poetry books, pretending to study. The words blurred.All week, people had asked questions he didn’t want to answer:“So he really stole your name?”“Are you two brothers?”“Was it like… romantic?”He had no answers that wouldn’t become gossip. And none that explained the ache