didn't sleep.
Not really.
Every time I closed my eyes, I heard it again—
"…you promised…"
That voice.
Broken.
Familiar.
And wrong.
Morning didn't feel like morning.
The shop was quiet, like always.
Too quiet.
The kind of silence that listens back.
I stood in front of the shelves, staring at the rows of clothes.
Hundreds of pieces.
Hundreds of lives.
Hundreds of secrets.
And yet—
One of them had none.
I looked at the fabric again.
Still on the counter.
Still wrong.
Still… impossible.
"I need to understand," I whispered.
But the shop didn't answer.
It never did.
It only showed.
I reached for the fabric again.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
The moment my fingers touched it—
Pain.
Sharp.
Sudden.
Like something inside my head cracked open.
I gasped, gripping the edge of the counter.
And then—
It came.
A memory.
Not whole.
Not clear.
But enough.
A room.
White.
Too white.
No windows.
No doors.
Just light.
And voices.
Many voices.
Layered.
Overlapping.
Crying.
Begging.
Screaming—
"Please… don't take it…"
"I need that…"
"That's who I am—"
Then—
Silence.
Cut.
Like it never existed.
I stumbled back, breathing hard.
"No… no…"
That wasn't a memory.
It couldn't be.
Because I was there.
Not watching.
Doing.
My hands.
They moved.
In the memory.
Calm.
Precise.
Cold.
Touching someone's chest.
And then—
Pulling something out.
Not physical.
Not visible.
But real.
So real.
"A memory…" I whispered.
My stomach turned.
"No… I don't do that…"
But the image didn't stop.
It got clearer.
Closer.
The person in front of me—
Their face was blurred.
But their voice—
Clear.
Terrified.
"You said you'd keep it safe…"
My breath caught.
That voice.
The same one from before.
"…you promised…"
I pulled my hand away from the fabric violently.
The vision shattered.
Gone.
Just like that.
I stared at my hands.
They were shaking now.
Not slightly.
Not controllably.
Shaking like they didn't belong to me.
"I didn't…"
My voice was weak.
"I wouldn't…"
But the truth didn't care.
It was already inside me.
Cracking.
Spreading.
I turned toward the shelves.
My eyes scanning every piece.
Every fabric.
Every thread.
And suddenly—
They didn't feel like memories anymore.
They felt like…
Evidence.
"What did I do…?"
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
And for the first time—
The shop answered.
A sound.
Soft.
Almost nothing.
But I heard it.
Behind me.
I froze.
Slowly…
I turned.
The mirror.
I had never noticed it before.
Tall.
Old.
Standing in the corner of the shop like it had always been there.
Waiting.
I stepped closer.
My reflection stared back.
Pale.
Tired.
Different.
Then—
It moved.
Not me.
It.
My breath stopped.
My reflection tilted its head slightly.
Smiling.
A slow… knowing smile.
"You're finally looking," it said.
My heart slammed in my chest.
"No…"
"You're remembering."
I shook my head.
"This isn't real."
The reflection chuckled softly.
"That's what you built this place for."
My mind raced.
"Built… to hide?"
"To forget," it corrected.
I stepped back.
"You're not me."
It smiled wider.
"Oh… I am."
A pause.
Then—
"I'm the part of you that didn't disappear."
The room felt like it was closing in.
"You're lying."
"Am I?"
It leaned closer from inside the mirror.
"And tell me… why can't you read that fabric?"
I didn't answer.
Because I knew.
I just didn't want to say it.
"That man…" the reflection continued softly.
"He's not empty."
My chest tightened.
"He's what's left."
A silence.
Heavy.
Crushing.
"You took everything else."
The words hit like a blade.
Clean.
Precise.
Final.
I couldn't breathe.
Couldn't think.
Couldn't move.
"Why?" I whispered.
My reflection's smile faded.
For the first time—
It looked serious.
Almost… sad.
"Because someone asked you to."
The world went quiet.
"Who?"
The reflection didn't answer immediately.
It just watched me.
Like it was waiting.
For something inside me to break completely.
Then—
It spoke.
"You did."
Everything stopped.
And in that silence…
Something inside me finally cracked.