Chapter 2
1169 Words
I didn’t tell anyone about Room 214.
Not Chloe.
Not my mom.
Not even Dr. Lawson.
Because the moment I tried to explain it in my head, it already sounded unreal.
I walked into a random hospital room because my heart told me to.
Yeah. No.
So instead, I went home, locked my door, and sat on my bed—trying to convince myself that everything I was feeling had a logical explanation.
“This is normal,” I muttered.
“Your body is adjusting. Your brain is just… reacting.”
But even as I said it, my fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of my shirt, right over my chest.
Because deep down—
I knew.
This didn’t feel like imagination.
It felt like something was trying to surface.
The next few days were worse.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Mentally.
Because the flashes didn’t stop.
They came in pieces.
Unpredictable.
A reflection in a car window that wasn’t mine.
A streetlight flickering in the rain.
The faint echo of laughter—low, warm, unfamiliar.
And every time it happened, my heart reacted first.
Before my mind could catch up.
Like it recognized something…
Even when I didn’t.
It happened again three days later.
Stronger this time.
I was walking across campus, my bag slung over my shoulder, my mind focused on nothing in particular.
Then—
Everything shifted.
The air felt heavier.
The world blurred slightly at the edges.
And suddenly—
I wasn’t there anymore.
I was somewhere else.
Standing still.
Watching.
A coffee shop.
Warm lighting. Soft music in the background. The quiet hum of conversation.
My breath caught.
I had never been there before.
I knew that.
And yet—
I felt it.
Like a memory sitting just beneath the surface.
“Are you going to keep staring at the menu, or actually order something?”
The voice came from beside me.
Male.
Familiar.
Too familiar.
My heart skipped.
I turned—
And saw him.
For the first time.
Not in passing.
Not from a distance.
But clearly.
Like he was real.
Dark hair. Calm eyes. A faint, almost teasing smile resting on his lips.
He looked at me like he knew me.
Like he had been waiting for me to respond.
“Well?” he said.
I blinked.
“I… I don’t know what I want,” I heard myself say.
But the voice—
It wasn’t mine.
Or maybe it was.
Just… not this version of me.
He let out a soft chuckle.
“You say that every time.”
Something about that hit differently.
Familiar.
Comfortable.
Like it had been said before.
More than once.
“Maybe I like taking my time,” I replied.
He tilted his head slightly, studying me.
“Or maybe you just don’t like making decisions.”
I frowned faintly. “That’s not true.”
“Really?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I’m standing…”
He stepped a little closer.
Not too close.
But enough.
“…you overthink everything.”
My breath caught.
Not from fear.
From something else.
Something warmer.
Something that didn’t belong in a memory that wasn’t mine.
And then—
He smiled.
Soft.
Real.
Unforced.
“I’m Liam, by the way,” he said.
The name landed like a spark.
Liam.
Liam.
Liam.
It echoed in my chest.
In my mind.
Like something important had just been unlocked.
“Emma.”
Again—that voice.
My voice.
But not now.
Not here.
Then—
Everything shattered.
I stumbled slightly as the real world rushed back in.
The campus. The noise. The movement.
My hand shot out, grabbing onto the nearest bench to steady myself.
“What—”
My breathing became uneven.
My heart raced.
Too fast.
Too loud.
“Hey—are you okay?”
I looked up.
Chloe.
Her face was filled with concern as she crouched slightly in front of me.
“You just stopped walking,” she said. “Like completely froze.”
I swallowed hard.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly.
Lie.
Again.
She didn’t look convinced.
“Emma—”
“I said I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time.
She hesitated.
Then nodded slowly.
“Okay… but you don’t look fine.”
I forced a small smile. “I just got dizzy for a second.”
“That didn’t look like dizziness.”
I didn’t respond.
Because I couldn’t.
How was I supposed to explain that I had just seen—
Him.
Liam.
That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Not just the memory.
But the feeling.
It hadn’t felt distant.
It hadn’t felt like watching something.
It felt like being there.
Like I had lived it.
But I hadn’t.
I knew I hadn’t.
So why did it feel like I missed him?
That thought made my chest tighten again.
“This is crazy,” I whispered.
I stood up abruptly and paced my room.
“This is not real. It’s just your brain trying to process trauma or something.”
But even as I said it—
The name came back.
Clear.
Unshakable.
Liam.
The next day, I went back to the hospital.
I told myself it was for answers.
But deep down—
I knew I was chasing something else.
“Emma.”
I turned at the sound of my name.
A nurse stood a few feet away, smiling slightly.
“You’re back again.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Just… needed to ask a few questions.”
She nodded. “About your recovery?”
“Something like that.”
She stepped closer, glancing briefly at her clipboard.
“You’ve been doing well, actually. No complications.”
“That’s good.”
A pause.
Then—
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
“Of course.”
I hesitated.
Then—
“Do you ever… hear about donors?”
Her expression shifted slightly.
“Not usually,” she said carefully. “Why?”
I shrugged lightly. “Just curious.”
Another pause.
Then she said something casually.
Something that didn’t seem important to her.
But changed everything for me.
“There was one case recently, though,” she added. “A young guy. Around your age.”
My heart skipped.
“He was brought in not long before your surgery.”
The air around me felt thinner.
“What… what was his name?” I asked.
She frowned slightly, thinking.
Then—
“Liam,” she said.
Everything inside me went still.
“Liam Carter, I think.”
The world tilted slightly.
That name.
That face.
That memory.
It wasn’t just in my head.
It was real.
And suddenly—
That quiet, terrifying realization settled deeper than before.
This wasn’t just a transplant.
This wasn’t just recovery.
This wasn’t just imagination.
This was something else.
Something bigger.
Something I didn’t understand yet.
But one thing was already clear—
Liam wasn’t just a stranger.
And whatever happened to him…
Was somehow connected to me.
- Writer
