The first morning after returning to that house felt much calmer than I had imagined.
Too calm, even.
I stood in front of the mirror for quite a while, studying the face that now belonged to me.
Xana Syifanazia's face.
I still wasn't used to seeing it.
Every time I looked in the mirror, it felt like I was looking at someone I knew from a story, not at myself.
I let out a long sigh.
"All right, Xana."
My hands smoothed down my slightly disheveled hair.
"From now on, we have to work together."
I didn't know whether talking to myself like a crazy person was a bad habit or not.
But after entering someone else's body, everything felt a little more reasonable to do.
I picked up the phone lying on the table. There were no messages from Cindy.
No familiar names.
Nothing that could tell me whether the woman who used to be my secretary was still alive or not.
I still didn't know whether this world really was just a story.
Or whether there was something far bigger than anything I had imagined.
"If I can find the answer..." I gripped the phone tighter.
"Maybe I can go back."
I had to get a divorce.
After that, I would find out about this world. And if there really was a way to return to my previous life, I would find it. I didn't care how difficult it was.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
The sound of knocking made me turn.
"Come in."
The door opened.
A woman stood in the doorway wearing extremely elegant clothes. Her hair was perfectly styled, and her expression was cold.
I recognized her immediately.
Helen Asteria.
Fito's mother.
In the story I had read, she was one of the people who most strongly supported Fito's relationship with Yuza.
"You're awake?"
"I am."
Helen looked me up and down.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better."
"Good."
Just one word.
Then she turned around.
"We're having breakfast downstairs."
We?
I frowned.
That meant Helen wasn't the only one at the dining table. I followed her.
When we reached the dining room, several people were already there.
Fito sat on one side of the table, reading something on his tablet.
Beside him, a woman was casually playing with her phone.
Devia.
Fito's younger sister.
I had read about her before.
Devia was very close to Helen and always defended her brother.
When she saw me arrive, she only glanced at me. "Feeling better?"
"I am."
"What a shame."
I stopped walking.
"Huh?"
Devia smiled faintly.
"I mean, it's good that you're feeling better."
I stared at her for a few seconds.
Liar.
I chose to sit down without prolonging the conversation.
Not long afterward, a man entered the room.
He was tall, with a calm bearing.
Yoga.
Devia's husband.
I remembered him from the story.
In the original story, Yoga did live with Fito's family, but his relationship with Xana was never explained in much detail.
What puzzled me was that when Yoga saw me, his gaze lingered for a few seconds longer than it should have.
"Have you eaten?"
I shook my head.
"Not yet."
"Don't move around too much yet. You haven't fully recovered."
I only nodded.
"Thank you."
"Yoga, eat breakfast first."
Devia called out to him.
Yoga gave a brief reply.
"In a minute."
I watched them.
Something was strange.
But I didn't know what yet.
It wasn't as if I could read someone's mind just because of the way they looked at me.
I picked up a glass of water.
At least now I knew who lived in this house.
Helen.
Devia.
Yoga.
Fito.
And their twins.
Alma and Raka.
I turned toward Fito.
"The kids haven't come down yet?"
"Any minute now."
His answer was brief.
I fell silent again.
A few minutes later, footsteps sounded on the stairs.
A girl came down first.
Alma.
Her face was beautiful and clearly well cared for.
A boy walked behind her, his expression far more impassive.
Raka.
The two of them looked almost exactly alike.
I watched them in silence.
The two children who hated Xana in the story.
The two children who had never even considered their mother someone important.
Alma walked past me without saying a word.
Raka didn't even look at me.
I wasn't offended.
After all, I wasn't their mother.
At least not in spirit.
"Are you ready for school?" Fito asked.
"Yes, Dad."
Alma sat down.
Raka took the seat beside her.
Breakfast proceeded fairly quietly.
Until Fito suddenly spoke.
"I have to go out of town tomorrow."
Alma immediately raised her head.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah."
"Then you can't come on the twentieth, Dad?"
Fito was silent for a moment.
"It doesn't look like it."
Alma's expression immediately fell.
"But you promised."
"I know."
"The event is important."
"I'll try to rearrange my schedule."
Raka, who had been silent until then, finally spoke.
"If Dad can't come, who will?" Fito sighed.
"We'll see."
I frowned.
"The twentieth?"
Everyone turned to look at me.
I only then realized that I had asked too spontaneously.
"Yeah," Alma answered.
"The student projects and hobbies exhibition."
An exhibition.
I tried to recall the novel's contents.
Right.
There was an event like that.
And in the original story, it became one of the turning points in Raka's life.
But I didn't remember the details very well.
I only remembered that after the event, Raka grew to hate school even more.
Why?
I didn't know.
My memory of the novel clearly wasn't as complete as I had thought.
"Dad can't come," Raka repeated.
Fito nodded.
"Then what about Aunt Devia?"
Devia shook her head.
"I have the opening of a boutique branch on the twentieth."
"What about Yoga?"
Yoga, who was drinking, merely lifted his gaze.
"I'm going with Devia."
Alma looked even more disappointed.
"What about Grandpa and Grandma?"
Helen answered immediately.
"We have an event too."
I watched them one by one.
No one could come.
No one could take their place.
I almost wanted to laugh.
Such a large, lively family, and yet they didn't have time for their two children.
Then my gaze met Alma's. She looked disappointed.
Raka didn't show much emotion, but his small hand clenched beneath the table.
I knew that feeling.
The feeling you get when someone you were counting on doesn't show up.
I sighed.
"Then I'll go."
The dining table immediately fell silent.
Alma stared at me.
So did Raka.
Even Fito stopped moving his hand.
I looked at each of them in turn.
"I'll come to your school event."
Alma looked as if she wanted to say something, but in the end she only gave a small nod.
Raka didn't answer.
I stood up from my chair.
"After all..."
I smiled faintly.
"It seems I still have a duty as your mother."
For some reason, after saying that, my chest felt a little tight.
It wasn't because I was sad.
Maybe this body still held feelings that weren't mine.
I looked at the two children in front of me.
I still didn't know what would happen at that event.
I still didn't know why Raka would eventually come to hate school.
And I also didn't know that my small decision to go there would change so many things.
There was only one thing I knew.
I had come to this world to change Xana's life. But maybe...
this story wouldn't let me change it as easily as I thought.