Before the door closed, his phone rang, pulling him back to his unbearable reality.
Aiden (in a sharp tone, answering):
"Is there another problem?"
The police officer on the other end, his voice tense:
"Sir, there's a woman looking for her son... She hasn't been able to reach him since yesterday, despite their agreement to meet in the city. She's Dr. Aren's mother."
Aiden took a deep breath, his features suddenly hardening, any trace of his sarcastic smile vanishing.
"I'm coming," he said flatly, then turned the steering wheel sharply, the sound of the tires tearing through the street's silence like a warning cry from the heart of a storm.
At the Police Station
The waiting room was cold, the pale grey walls creating a sense of emptiness. The ticking of the clock echoed like a heavy noise in the ears of the lady who shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clutching her phone, her eyes fixed on the screen as if waiting for a miracle.
The Woman (in a broken voice, trying to hold back tears):
"So... what do I do now? Where do I go?"
The police officer, idly shuffling some papers, looked up slightly and said in a routine tone:
"Please wait a moment, madam... The chief will be here shortly."
At that moment, far from this bureaucratic coldness, Aren was sitting on the edge of his bed, the dim room light reflecting on his tired face. He gripped the old bandage and slowly began to unwrap it, revealing the long wound, biting his lip to suppress the pain he tried not to feel.
Elsewhere, Saira returned to work, but her steps were hesitant, her mind still caught on Aiden's words. Around her, her colleagues' whispers rose like sparrows descending on hot bread.
First Colleague (with unconcealed curiosity):
"Who was that man? He seemed like he was from another world..."
The Other (with a sarcastic tone):
"If the manager fires you, your handsome man won't help you!"
A Third (in a hushed voice, as if talking to herself):
"We're forced to be like slaves... no one hears us."
Meanwhile, the police station doors swung open. Aiden entered.
His steps were steady, his face as rigid as sea rock. He didn't need to raise his voice, for when he spoke, a strange silence fell as if time itself had stopped to listen.
Aiden (in his calm, decisive voice):
"Where is she?"
The police officer, rising with clear nervousness, stammered slightly then pointed to the woman sitting in the corner:
"Welcome, sir... this is her."
The woman slowly turned, as if something forced her neck to rotate. And when her eyes met Aiden's, her pupils widened as if they would explode. Her face paled, her mouth trembled, and she clutched her bag as if grasping a straw in a storm.
Aiden, staring steadily at her, slowly approached and said in a low tone:
"You... are Aren's mother?"
The woman continued to stare at him, her eyes tearing without blinking, as if she were seeing a ghost returned from the grave.
Aiden moved closer, leaning slightly, then whispered into her ear in a voice almost inaudible, yet it pierced her mind like a bullet:
"Did you find your son, Aiden?"
The woman trembled, stepping back two steps as if pushed by an invisible force, then sat on the chair behind her unconsciously, her breath catching, a silent tear rolling down her right eye.
Aiden straightened up, calmly observing her reaction before saying in a softer, yet still firm tone:
"Aren told me the truth. That's why I decided to help. I'll take you to him... to Aren."
At that moment, a new chessboard was silently being drawn within Aiden, but this time, the pieces weren't black and white, but broken, intertwined, and jumbled. From the moment Aren spoke the name of his lost brother, the notepad in his mind began to light up for the first time, as if pulsating with hope.
But hope wasn't enough... Aiden's childhood was still surrounded by a thick fog.
Aiden gently opened the back door of the car and nodded for the woman to get in.
She hesitated for a moment, as if her body was still unable to respond, then slowly entered, her hands trembling as she clutched her bag to her chest like a lost memory.
He closed the door, walked calmly around the car, then sat behind the wheel. A heavy silence hung in the air, only her disturbed breathing and his quiet sighs filling the scene.
Aiden, starting the engine without looking at her, said in his monotonous voice, which concealed a sea of thought:
"Isn't it strange that Aren didn't tell you where his new home was?"
He waited for an answer... but received nothing but a glance.
A bewildered, astonished, confused look, with something resembling suppressed pain from years past in its depths. Her eyes were fixed on him, as if she saw a past and a present intertwined in his face.
He let out a short sigh, then smiled faintly with sarcasm, turning his gaze to the road ahead, the steering wheel in his hands like a piece of the chessboard revolving in his head:
"What? Should I remind you of your lost son?"
Then he continued in a deeper voice, with a touch of mystery, as if speaking more to himself than to her:
"So... maybe we don't just share a name... do we?"
Silence again, but inside Aiden, there was no calm at all. There was a voice... no, two voices... overlapping, arguing, swirling in his head like an unending vortex.
(Inside Aiden's mind)
The first voice, sarcastic, resembling his but sharper:
"Great... the name, the gazes, the silence, everything points to one thing."
Another voice, calmer, confused:
"But it can't just be a coincidence? Why don't I remember? Why do I see fragmented memories, without context?"
(Aiden's internal voice, louder, as if talking to himself within his mind):
"So... what do I conclude from all these coincidences?"
"The name? The resemblance? Her gaze? That astonishment stuck in her features?"
"Strange... this is all strange..."
"Empty loops... as if someone deliberately erased my childhood."
"How do I complete the missing chessboard? How do I rearrange the pieces?"
His hand trembled for a moment on the steering wheel, but he gripped it tightly again. The city lights reflected on the windshield as the car moved quietly.
He doesn't know yet...
But he's starting to feel.
And feeling, sometimes, is more dangerous than knowing.
Aren's House – Night Creeping In from Every Corner
Darkness had fallen over the room, and the silence was broken only by fragmented breaths and muffled moans. On the bed, which seemed too small for the weight of his pain, Aren lay, eyes closed, his forehead glistening with drops of sweat that slowly trickled down as if writing his agony on his skin. His body temperature was rising as if hidden fires were burning deep within him. He had finally taken the painkiller, but its effect wasn't enough to quell what was raging inside him.
Memories seeped in like thick smoke, then turned into a dream...
A childish laugh echoed in the void, gentle, warm, tinged with innocence:
Aren (in a small child's voice):
"Brother... my brother Aiden, shall we play hide-and-seek?"
Aiden (laughing, his voice like an embrace):
"Hmm, of course, absolutely! Let's play. I'll hide, and you look for me, okay?"
The scene suddenly changed...
Everything around him had turned upside down. The ground was no longer covered with flowers, nor was the sky laughing with its sun. The house... the childhood home, became just a skeleton consumed by darkness. The walls were decaying, and the windows groaned with the sound of the wind. No light remained except for one narrow spot where a small version of Aren stood, alone, his anxious body wrapped around himself, calling in a trembling voice:
Little Aren (terrified):
"Aiden? Aiden... where are you? Don't leave me alone..."
But no one answered him.
The silence was as harsh as a slap, and the darkness began to gradually devour that bright spot. Suddenly, he found himself—as he was now—but shackled. Chains wrapped around his wrists and ankles, preventing him from moving. As for his voice, it had completely disappeared, as if the dream had stolen his ability to scream.
And before his eyes... Aiden appeared. But he wasn't as he remembered him, he wasn't the brother he knew. Instead, he was swallowing darkness. Yes, darkness itself surrounded him, seeping into his mouth, into his eyes, until he became just a shadow without features. He was literally consuming nothingness, as if his existence was vanishing.
Aren (internally, struggling):
"No... no... wake up... wake up..."
His breathing quickened, his body writhed, and his mind tried to pull him out of that terrifying nightmare. His heart hammered against his chest as if wanting to break free.