The Doppelgänger Game

Chapter 2: The Three-Day Pact

I had only returned to the care home to resign. According to my contract, if I missed three consecutive days without showing up, I’d be considered to have quit. I’d been sick for weeks, and after everything, I just wanted out.

But the moment I arrived, something felt off.

People greeted me with more warmth than I remembered. Mr. Chen clapped me on the back like an old friend.

A nurse handed me a peach, saying it was my favorite. I didn’t even like peaches.

Then came the question from him—Leo.

"Got your paycheck?" he asked casually.

I froze. "What?"

"From the care home. It hit the account yesterday. You still check it, right?"

I didn’t know what to say.

That’s when he laid it out.

"Let’s make a deal. I’ll keep working here—your job, your hours, your schedule. Everyone already thinks I’m you anyway. The salary goes to you. All you have to do is not show up. Just disappear for a few days."

It sounded insane. But part of me was already tempted.

I was tired. Still recovering. And the money... I needed the money.

That hesitation was all he needed to see.

Through the lounge window of the care home, I watched him enter—his silhouette sharp against the light. The way he moved, the way people smiled at him, how he fit so easily into a place I used to struggle to belong to—it all stung.

For a brief moment, I felt calm, like I was seeing a stranger. But deep down, I knew I was watching a version of myself I couldn't compete with.

Three days ago, I swore I’d never return here. Never again see the man who looked exactly like me. And yet, here I was. Drawn back like a moth to a flame. Because I needed to understand: how was he doing it? Who was he really?

“Glad you came,” he said with a smile, stepping toward me like we were old friends. "Just like we agreed."

I hadn’t agreed to anything. Not really.

The truth is, I returned the very next day after our encounter. The questions ate away at me. Everyone treated him like he was me—staff, residents, even the guard at the gate. It was like I had been erased. And he... had been written in my place.

Mr. Chen grabbed my hand the moment I stepped inside, pulling me toward the chessboard. “Back for more?” he grinned.

I hesitated. Chess? I couldn’t even play. “I’m feeling a little under the weather,” I murmured, blaming the flu.

Another resident waved me over for tai chi. Another wanted me to sing. I made excuse after excuse, ducking out of their requests. And still, their voices lingered as I left:

“Liam’s been avoiding us lately.”

“He used to love chess—now he runs away.”

“Hope he’s not leaving us for good.”

I quickened my pace, guilt nipping at my heels.

Later that night, his voice came back to me, uninvited: “So, decided yet?”

I hadn’t answered. For two days, I avoided the care home, avoided him. But the pressure didn’t ease.

So I returned. And when I found him again, standing at the same spot beneath the ginkgo tree, I finally spoke the words that had been haunting me:

“I’ll take the deal. Three days. Then you’re gone.”

He didn’t seem surprised. He nodded once, that familiar smile still warm but unreadable. “To our agreement,” he said, and turned away, walking back into the hazy light.

“Wait!” I called out. “Who are you?”

He paused, just briefly, and glanced at the hand I’d placed on his arm. Calmly, he peeled it away. “Does it matter now?”

I stood frozen as he walked off, disappearing once again into the warm blur of Amber City’s summer. His final

words echoed in my head.

Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe I had already agreed to something far bigger than I understood.

And then I saw it—a faint scar on his arm, right where I had one from a childhood burn.

An exact match.

I wasn’t just staring at a look-alike. This man… was more me than I realized.