As she sat there, Aika's brain was already running miles ahead.
Okay. If he asks about a happy or sad memory — no. Business knowledge — no. Friends — no. Food preferences? Helena's clothing sense? What am I even supposed to say to that?
She had mentally prepared for every possible question, cataloguing her answers like a pre-exam checklist. She was ready. She was absolutely ready.
Haan's voice pulled her back from her thoughts.
"So," he said, his tone gentle and unhurried. "Could you tell me — do you remember your mother's face?"
Aika's brain came to a full, screeching halt.
...That's an out of syllabus question.
Her breath caught. She looked up directly at his face, her eyes completely empty.
Haan studied her reaction quietly. Did I ask her something too emotional? he wondered. But she's been dodging too many questions already. And looking at her reaction right now — I can sense she genuinely doesn't recall.
He made a small note. Noel, you always bring me the difficult ones.
Aika meanwhile was having a completely different crisis.
Oh no.
It felt too personal. Too unexpectedly personal. Because even as Aika — not Helena, just Aika — she couldn't remember her own mother's face either. Her mother had always been there and yet somehow the face never stayed. She never understood why.
She blinked and quickly swept the thought away.
He's asking about Helena's mother. Helena's. Not mine. Stay focused.
"I don't recall," she said quietly.
A strange sadness settled over her — unexpected and uninvited. She wasn't sure if it was her own feeling or something leftover from Helena. Maybe both. Maybe neither. She couldn't tell anymore where Aika ended and Helena began sometimes.
Haan's expression softened slightly. "I didn't mean to bring up something painful," he said gently. "But I should mention — from what the people closest to you have told me, whatever happened in your life, you never forgot your mother. You were incredibly close to her."
Aika said nothing. She just looked at her hands.
"Very well then," Haan said, his voice returning to that calm unhurried tone that she was beginning to find genuinely terrifying. He leaned forward slightly. "So tell me yourself — any small piece. Anything at all. Even the tiniest fragment of something you recall. Anything."
Anything.
Aika's brain went completely still.
He just handed me a wide open question. No boundaries. No specific target. Just — anything.
This man is so much more dangerous than I gave him credit for.
She sighed — loudly, without even realising she had done it.
Then she just looked at him. Dead expression. Eyes flat. The kind of face that said what on earth are you asking me without a single word.
A beat of silence.
Then she forced a smile. Polite. Painful. Completely unconvincing.
"As I told you," she said, her voice calm but carrying the very clear energy of someone who had reached their limit, "I don't recall anything. And I'm sorry to say — asking me the same question this many times still won't ring any bells in my head, Dr. Haan."
Haan smiled.
Not a polite smile. A real one. Slow and quietly amused as he set his notepad aside.
Look at her, he thought. The audacity. Talking to a doctor like that.
He leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand, his blue eyes steady on hers.
"Fair enough," he said pleasantly. "You've made your point very clearly, Miss Helena."
A pause.
"But as a doctor — that's a duty I can't shake off quite so easily." His voice stayed light but his eyes didn't move from her face. "Because from where I'm sitting, every answer you've given me today has felt less like someone who can't remember — and more like someone who is very carefully choosing what NOT to say."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I could be wrong. It might just be my intuition." Another small smile. "But in my experience — my intuition rarely is."
For real? That absolute piece of—
Her eyes blew wide. Lips pressed together so hard they nearly disappeared. Every single thought she had about Dr. Haan and his calm smile and his notepad and his terrifyingly accurate intuition was visible for exactly one second in her face —
Then she smiled.
Polite. Empty. Immovable.
"I don't know what you mean," she said pleasantly.
"That's okay," Haan said pleasantly, as if she hadn't just stonewalled him for the entire session. "We'll continue this next week."
He closed his notepad with a soft snap.
"Until then — try to recall small things. Your favourite food. Any tiny memory. Anything at all." He smiled. "It also helps to revisit places you used to frequent regularly. Go back to the spots you used to go. Do the activities you did before the accident. Sometimes the body remembers what the mind can't."
Aika nodded. Slowly. Carefully. The picture of a cooperative patient.
Yes. Absolutely. Wonderful advice. Thank you so much.
Inside she was doing a full victory lap.
I can LEAVE. Finally. What a tough interview. That felt like a final exam and a job interview had a baby and that baby hated me personally. Thank goodness it's over.
She stood up, smoothed her clothes, and maintained her polite expression all the way to the door.
I am never coming back here.
She pushed the door open quickly and stepped out.
"Send Noel in," Haan called pleasantly behind her.
"Okay," she said, and walked out without looking back.
She turned into the waiting area — and stopped.
Noel was seated on the sofa. But he wasn't alone.
Beside him sat a girl Aika hadn't seen before. She was speaking in a very low voice, leaned slightly toward him, her entire posture carrying the kind of natural confidence that didn't need to announce itself. The type of confidence that just existed quietly and made the whole room feel it.
Noel was listening. Actually listening — not the half-distracted, phone-in-hand listening he usually gave people. Fully present. Still.
Oh. Aika's first instinct kicked in immediately. That's rude to interrupt. Let them finish.
So she stood to the side and waited. Quietly. Patiently.
The girl was wearing a soft flowing dress in muted blue-green, like still water. A white shawl draped loosely around her shoulders, the fringed edges falling elegantly around her. Long black hair in loose waves — not aggressively styled, just naturally present. Everything about her was soft in colour but structured in presence.
But it wasn't the clothes.
It was the way she sat. Completely settled. One hand raised slightly as she spoke, her expression calm and unbothered in a way that had nothing to do with coldness. Like someone who had decided exactly who she was a very long time ago and never once second guessed it since.
She's so cool, Aika thought, genuinely struck. Like actually cool. Not Cecilia's kind of cool — that's performed. This is just... real.
Eventually Aika cleared her throat softly — just enough.
Both of them looked up.
Before she left, the girl stood and turned — and for one long moment her eyes moved over Aika completely. Not rudely. Just thoroughly. A full scan, head to toe, unhurried and unbothered, the way someone looks at something they are deciding what to make of.
Then she turned to Noel, said her goodbye in that same low quiet voice, and walked out.
Behind her, a bodyguard in glasses who had been standing so still Aika hadn't even noticed him fell silently into step and followed her out.
The door closed.
Aika stood there for a second.
She didn't introduce herself, she noted. Just scanned me like a document and left.
She wasn't offended exactly. Just — aware.
Who does that?
She shook it off. Who cares. Not my business.
But despite herself she found her eyes still trailing the direction the girl had gone — that blue-green dress, that white shawl, that completely unbothered walk —
And then something stepped directly into her line of sight.
Noel.
He had stood up and positioned himself in that specific way — not dramatically, not deliberately — just naturally stepping forward in a way that completely blocked her view. Like a wall that had simply decided to exist there.
Aika blinked. Her view was gone.
"Are you done?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "Oh — Dr. Haan called you in."
"Wait here," Noel said simply. "I'll be back."
He walked into the office. The door clicked shut behind him.
Aika stood there for a second then turned and looked back toward the entrance. Her eyes still trailing the direction the girl in blue-green had disappeared.
She didn't ask.
Not — who was that? Not — how do you know her? Not anything.
Because genuinely — it wasn't her business. Noel talked to whoever he wanted. That was his life. His choice. She had zero claim over his time or his conversations and she felt absolutely zero pull to investigate it.
She just — looked. For one more second. Then let it go.
Noel paused at the office door for just a fraction of a moment. He glanced back at her.
Wait, he thought. Is she going to ask?
He watched her face. Waited.
She didn't.
She simply turned around, walked back to the sofa where they had been sitting minutes ago, and sat down. Arms loosely in her lap. Completely unbothered.
Noel looked at her for one more second.
Then walked into the office.
Behind the closed door, Haan was already leaning back in his chair. He looked up as Noel entered, that same quiet smile still on his face.
"Well," Haan said simply. "She's interesting."
Noel said nothing. He sat down, crossed his arms, and looked at his oldest friend.
"She's hiding something," Noel said flatly.
Haan tilted his head. "Aren't we all."
He picked up his notepad and tapped it once with his pen.
"Come back next week, Noel." His blue eyes were steady and certain. "I'll catch it. Whatever it is."
I'll catch your lie sooner or later, Miss Helena.
That's what I do.