For a moment, Karu just stared, his thoughts spiraling so fast they barely made sense. Was that really his mom? The body looked old—far too old. Five months, maybe. Long enough that it couldn't possibly be her.
Because his mom had been alive. Laughing. Cooking. Talking to him. Every day for the past five months.
His chest tightened. A cold, impossible thought tried to claw its way in, but he shoved it back down.
"No," he muttered to himself. "It's just someone who looks like her. That's all."
He forced himself to turn away.
And he walked off, pretending that this had never happened.
Karu didn't even notice the cold air on his skin as he walked back. His mind was a tangled mess—so tangled he forgot why he'd gone outside in the first place. The hunger that pushed him out the door was gone, replaced by a sick, twisting feeling that made his stomach feel hollow.
By the time he reached the apartment, he was still replaying the image in his head. The shape. The stillness. The awful realization he'd tried to shove away.
He stepped inside.
And there she was.
His "mom," sitting calmly on the couch like nothing in the world was wrong.
A sharp flash of memory hit him so hard he almost dropped the bag in his hand. For a split second, the room felt like it was tilting.
His mom turned around, her voice warm and casual. "Karu, where were you? You said you went to get food, but… I don't see any."
Karu didn't answer. He just stood there in the doorway, frozen, gripping the bag like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"…"
He couldn't tell if he was staring at his mother… or at something wearing her face.
There was no way she'd see through his lie. Karu had always been good at pretending—too good, maybe. He could smile, shrug, and slip into whatever version of himself people expected to see.
So he held that smile in place, even though it felt like it was glued on.
His mom's eyes stayed on him, unreadable. "I saw you go to the dumpster," she said again, her tone flat. "See anything there?"
Karu's heartbeat thudded in his ears, but his voice came out smooth, practiced. "I just saw a cat. It was really cute, so I walked over to pet it."
A perfect lie. Clean. Simple. Harmless.
She didn't blink. Didn't nod. Didn't react at all.
For a moment, the silence stretched between them like a wire pulled too tight.
But Karu kept his expression steady. He'd lied his way out of worse situations.
At least… he hoped he had.