My chest pounded with nerves as I watched Lyka get out of bed, her wide eyes fixed on me. I tightly held Lyka's mother's hand.
"Delia, where's Delia? I hate that name, you!" Her index finger pointed at me. "Who are you? Are you Delia?" Lyka slowly approached me.
I remained silent. It seemed Lyka didn't recognize me. Yet I still stood behind her mother as if seeking protection. I didn't know why I was so scared. Maybe because the specter of a mentally unstable individual had already been terrifyingly ingrained in my mind.
"Dear, Lyka... she's not Delia, she's your friend." Lyka's mother tried to soothe her with a little white lie.
I gasped when Lyka's hand pulled my arm forcefully.
"You're not Delia, right? I hate Delia. She took everything I wanted." I still remained silent, on one ha
