Chapter 9: The Past

“I can’t remember what happened before. All I know is that I kinda remember your name, but I doubt you even know me.”

John’s expression faltered like he was carrying something too heavy for me to see. For a moment, I thought he might say something—might give me the answer I didn’t know I was searching for. But then his face closed off, and his tone shifted, light but forced.

“Let’s not dwell on the past,” he said quickly. “What do you want to do today?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know. I guess I’ll just follow you. I don’t know my way around here.”

John gave a small nod as if he’d expected that. “How about we check out the river?” there was something eager in his voice now, something almost nostalgic. “I caught some big fish down there. It’s a good place to explore.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, trying to shake the strange weight in my chest. Maybe I just needed a distraction.

As we stepped outside, the cool air wrapped around me, crisp and fresh. Sunlight cut through the trees, dappling the ground in shifting patterns. Behind us, the cabin stood still and quiet, like a relic of another time. Or maybe just another life.

John glanced back at me. “Just so you know, the river’s different now. We’ll have to be careful.”

A flicker of unease passed through me. “Be careful of what?”

His smile returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “New species. Unpredictable currents. You’ll see.”

Something about the way he said it made my stomach twist. We walked in silence for a while, the soft earth muffling our steps. But my mind wouldn’t quiet.

“What else has changed?” I finally asked, forcing my voice to stay light.

John hesitated. For a second, his expression turned distant, lost in something I couldn’t reach. Then, almost too quietly, he said, “Everything.”

I frowned. “That’s not exactly reassuring.”

“It’s better if you discover it for yourself.”

That wasn’t reassuring either. But I didn’t press. Maybe part of me didn’t want to know.

When we reached the river, my breath caught. The water shimmered unnaturally, reflecting colors I didn’t recognize. Strange plants lined the banks, twisting toward the sky like they had a mind of their own. It was beautiful. It was unsettling.

“Wow,” I breathed.

“Wait till you see the fish,” John said, motioning to a spot where the water rippled strangely. “they’re incredible.”

As if on cue, a large fish leaped from the water, its scales catching the light in an iridescent flash. I took a step closer, drawn in.

“So beautiful.”

John watched me carefully. “There’s more I want to show you. But first, we need supplies.”

I tore my eyes from the river. “Supplies?”

“We’re camping out.” his tone was casual, but there was something in his eyes—like he was testing me. “you need to learn how things work out here. Survival skills. And, well... I know you don’t have any of those, Katie.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Yeah, right, John.” the words came out easy, familiar. Too familiar. Like we’d done this before. Like we’d laughed like this before.

But we hadn’t.

Had we?

The thought hit me like a punch to the gut, my pulse quickening. I swallowed hard, my smile fading. Did I know John before? Why did it feel like I did? And if I did... why couldn’t I remember?

A chill ran through me, but I didn’t know if it was from the air or the sudden fear curling in my stomach.

Some part of me wanted the answers.

“John,” I said hesitating. “Did I know you before I went into the sleeping chambers?”

His laugh came too quickly—forced, almost unnatural. “Ha ha! Why do you ask?” but his eyes betrayed him, widening just a little too much.

I swallowed, my chest tightening. “I don’t know. it’s just… I can feel it. Like pieces of my memory are missing, and—”

“No.” his voice dropped, sharp and final. “We didn’t know each other before that place.”

I froze. The shift in his tone was undeniable—stern, almost warning me not to push further.

“Let’s just go back to the cabin,” He said with a look of remorse on his face. “We will spend the night there.”