On the night of the awards, Emily stepped onto the red carpet, her diamond-studded gown dazzling everyone into blindness. The flashbulbs erupted like fireworks—until the host suddenly sneered, "This award shouldn't go to someone wearing a stolen identity."
I stood on the stage, microphone in hand, my heart stopping cold.
The audience exploded in shock. Meanwhile, live chat scrolled violently before my eyes:
【She’s not Julia! The real heiress died in that car crash ten years ago!】
【Jack searched for her eight long years… but he fell in love with a ghost.】
【Watch out for that child. The music box in his hands will shatter memories when opened.】
I didn’t move. Instead, I smiled faintly. Just as I was about to speak, all the spotlights cut out.
When they flashed back on, I was no longer at the ceremony.
I was in a run-down diner—greasy tablecloths, peeling wallpaper, rain tapping against the metal awning outside.
The doorbell chimed softly. A man walked in.
Impeccable suit, sharp features like carved stone—Jack. My Jack. And Julia’s fiancé.
He saw me, pupils shrinking, voice trembling: "...Julie?"
I said nothing. My eyes locked onto the little boy behind him.
Six or seven years old, pale-faced, silent as he held out a rusted music box.
"Mom said to give this to you," he whispered. "She said you'd come back."
Jack dropped to one knee and pulled me into his arms, as if clutching a life reclaimed from death: "I thought of you every single day... Every. Single. Day."
My body turned ice-cold. I screamed, raw and broken: "I'm not Julia! I don't know you! I don't know any of you!"
But he wouldn’t let go. His fingers brushed the nape of my neck—and pressed.
Agony ripped through my skull. Deep within my mind, a door burst open.
Fragments surged forward: an operating table, syringes, a woman weeping, and me—lying in a hospital bed, injected with a glowing blue liquid...
A mechanical voice echoed: 【Memory overwrite complete. Host reconfigured as—Julia Winston.】
The real me had died eight years ago.
And now, the child stared at me, whispering: "Auntie… your eyes are bleeding."
I touched my face. My fingers came away red.
Then, a calm system alert whispered in my ear:
【Warning: Original personality awakening. Erasure protocol initiated—72-hour countdown.】
After a childhood kidnapping where Emily saved her stepbrother Ryan, she lost her memory and was raised by another. Years later, she returned to Ryan's home, where he mistook and mistreated her. His sister Faith, discovering Emily's identity, plotted against her. A car accident restored Emily's memory, leading Ryan to recognize his savior, and the destined couple reunited.
