The ride home was quiet.
Too quiet.
My phone buzzed again.
I looked down.
Sarah.
"I saw the streak you sent.
I frowned.
The streak?
I tried to remember.
Did I send one?
I don't remember taking any picture.
"…Yeah," I typed slowly.
"I guess."
Even as I sent it, I wasn't sure.
She replied after a few seconds.
"You look different."
I stared at the message.
Different.
That word again.
I locked my phone.
The moment we got home, I knew something wasn't right.
The door was open.
Voices inside.
I stepped in slowly.
Then I heard it—
"…him?"
I froze.
One of the maids was standing in the hallway, holding a box.
She was staring at me.
"Good afternoon, ma—" she stopped mid-sentence.
Her eyes dropped to my hair.
Then back to my face.
"…sir?"
The other maid came out of my room and paused too.
They both just stood there.
Looking at me.
Like they were trying to solve a puzzle.
I felt my face heat up instantly.
"It's me," I said quickly.
They looked confused.
My mom walked in behind me.
"This is Andrew," she said calmly.
There was a short silence.
Then one of them nodded quickly.
"Yes ma."
But I could still see it on their faces.
They didn't get it.
Not really.
One of them leaned slightly toward the other and whispered—
"He has her face."
I heard it.
I wish I didn't.
I walked straight to my room.
Then stopped.
Everything was different.
Boxes everywhere.
My closet open.
Half empty.
No....more than half.
I stepped inside slowly.
My clothes.
My dresses.
Folded into boxes.
Like they were nothing.
Like they were easy to replace.
"What is this?" I asked.
"They're being cleared out," my mom said from behind me
.
"Cleared?" I repeated.
"For donation."
I turned to look at her.
"You're giving them away?"
"You won't need them anymore."
That sentence hit harder than anything else.
I didn't say anything after that.
I just stood there.
Watching.
As they packed the rest.
Later that evening, I didn't come downstairs.
I didn't eat.
I didn't even feel hungry.
I just sat on my bed.
Staring at nothing.
My phone buzzed a few times.
I ignored it.
Everything felt heavy.
Too heavy.
At some point, I lay down.
Curled up slightly.
And just… cried.
Quietly.
Not loud.
Just enough so I could breathe.
A soft knock came on the door.
I didn't answer.
The door opened anyway.
My mom walked in.
She stopped when she saw me.
I didn't move.
"Have you eaten?" she asked.
I didn't respond.
She sighed softly and walked closer.
"You can't skip meals like this."
Still nothing.
She sat down beside me.
For a moment, she didn't say anything.
Then—
"I know this is hard."
I let out a small laugh.
A broken one.
"Do you?" I said quietly.
She didn't answer immediately.
"No," she said finally. "Not exactly."
That surprised me.
"But I know what losing everything feels like," she added.
I turned slightly.
"Your father built that company from nothing," she continued.
Her voice was calm.
But I could hear something under it.
"If we lose it… we lose more than money."
I swallowed.
"And what about me?" I asked.
There was a pause.
"You're not losing yourself," she said.
It didn't feel true.
"It doesn't feel like that," I whispered.
She looked at me.
Then reached out and gently wiped my face.
"This is temporary," she said softly.
"You'll understand one day."
I didn't believe that.
Not right now.
She stood up slowly.
"Try to eat something," she said.
Then she walked to the door.
Before leaving, she paused.
"…Andrew."
I closed my eyes
Didn't respond
She closed the door quietly
The room went silent again.
But this time…
it felt different.
Like everything had already changed.
And I was the only one still trying to catch up.....