The days that followed were a long, blurred period of recovery in Nathan's apartment.
My body healed faster than my sense of self. The wounds closed, but I felt my soul shrinking. The feeling of standing just beside my own life never vanished; instead, it grew sharper as the bruises faded.
For the first few days, Nathan never left my side. He took time off work, and as long as I was in his sight, he remained agonizingly tense—as if the moment he looked away, a crack in reality would swallow me whole. But soon, that stillness turned into a different kind of urgency. He began going out constantly, from dawn until long past midnight. He never said exactly where he went, only obsessively checked the locks and reminded me to keep my phone fully charged.
Tonight, he brought back the answers.
He set his keys down with a careful, deliberate motion. "I saw Luna," he said.
My chest tightened. "She's fully integrated into your life," he continued, his voice cold as ice. "She went back to your kindergarten. Your colleagues accepted her without hesitation. The children adore her. No one questioned it."
He paused and turned the laptop toward me. "This isn't hypnosis," he went on quietly. "No one can pull off a mass hypnosis on this scale. Hypnosis leaves inconsistencies, logical delays, and mental reversions. This... this is seamless."
On the screen were the results of his investigation: City Hall, the local registry, hospital records, even banking backends.
Every official database showed the same result. My name, Evelyn Hart, was still there. The ID number I had known since I was eighteen matched perfectly. But the face attached to all of it—was Luna's.
"There are no traces of modification. No interference logs. No evidence of a breach." Nathan's voice dropped, carrying a chill that crawled up my spine. "No human hacker could infiltrate and alter every government, medical, and financial system simultaneously within a few days without leaving a single footprint. It's logically impossible."
He closed the laptop. The room fell into absolute silence.
"Which means this isn't a forgery. It's not a scam."
Nathan walked to the drawer. He hesitated for a moment, then opened it, pulling out a neatly folded, yellowed photocopy.
"Do you remember sophomore year?" he asked. "I was the class monitor. I collected ID copies from everyone. I kept an extra copy of yours." He let out a faint, self-deprecating breath. "This is likely the only non-networked, physical backup left in the entire city."
My hands trembled as I took the paper. I was young in the photo. My name. My number. My face. It was the only proof left that I had ever been me.
Nathan watched me for a long moment, his eyes filled with a grim resolve. "If this isn't man-made, and it's not a hack..."
He paused, letting the weight of the words settle. "Then this is an anomalous event. Reality itself... has been rewritten."