Something woke her, though she couldn’t quite say what. She quickly brushed it off and returned her gaze to the starlit sky above. She was cold now. Tiny shivers ran down her spine, raising goosebumps across her skin. The wind, so warm and gentle during the day, had turned sharp, more piercing. The moon, hidden behind clouds, offered little light, yet somehow none of its beauty was diminished. As she thought about it, she realized someone was near. Someone had been watching her for a while. Her first instinct was to leap up and run, but the moment passed quickly. Even before her muscles could tense, clarity returned. There was no reason to be afraid. She knew exactly who had chosen to keep her company that night. And deep down, she was oddly grateful.

  “Did you find your answers?” asked the Not-a-Doctor, draping his jacket over her shoulders.

  Wrapped in its warmth, she couldn’t help but smile.

  “No. I didn’t find nearly any of them.”

  “Will you keep looking?” he persisted. “Are you planning to learn everything?”

  “For what?” she replied, closing her eyes. “I know what I know, and that’s enough.”

  “Enough...”

  “To live,” she chuckled softly. “To fight you in our eternal battle. To die. Isn’t that enough? It’s enough for me.”

  The man silently pondered her words. His face looked like a mask; his eyes gave nothing away. When he finally spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion, as if any hidden inflection might shatter everything.

  “You sent them away.”

  “Yes,” she said, opening her eyes, reluctantly sitting up and pulling the jacket tighter around her shoulders.

  “I made a deal with them,” the Not-a-Doctor said, reaching into a side pocket of her temporary coat and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He opened it and offered her one, then calmly added, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

  “I shouldn’t have? Why not? It wasn’t a fair or beneficial deal for them. Honestly, it wasn’t even a deal. More like a demonic contract, you know? I did them a favor.”

  “No one said it was fair. They belonged to me, and you sent them away. How do you plan to compensate me for the loss?”

  Alice fell silent, searching his eyes for any hint of an answer. But they remained cold, indifferent to everything around them. She gave up reluctantly. With a quiet sigh, she said,

  “I don’t know. Maybe with my death. But I could be wrong.”

  That was enough. She knew it. He understood her message. He understood the choice she had made and what she had sacrificed in that single moment.

  He lit her cigarette, then his own. He inhaled deeply, gazing straight into her eyes. She felt strange under his stare, pierced by those blue eyes. No, she didn’t fool herself into thinking there was anything deeper in it. He was simply reading her, her thoughts, her memories, maybe even her emotions. Checking what she knew, what she intended to do, whether she would fail. She didn’t blame him. It was his duty to watch over her. A pity she only understood that now. She must have given him hell during her teenage years.

  The man suddenly burst out laughing, a loud, raw laugh from deep in his chest. It startled her, maybe even frightened her, but she didn’t let it show. In silence, she waited, for him to speak, to explain something. When he finally calmed down, he asked,

  “You’re free of all obligations. How does that feel?”

  “Pretty good,” she answered, then took a drag from her cigarette and barely stopped herself from coughing. “And why do you ask?”

  “Oh, no reason. Maybe it’s just a hunch, but I feel some very interesting times are coming.”

  “Really now?” She took another drag, not as deep this time. “I thought you were concerned about me.”

  “But of course I am! I came to offer my shoulder, so touched I was by your emotional farewell.”

  “Go to hell,” Alice snapped, making no effort to hide her anger.

  “I was even going to offer you a pack of tissues,” he said mockingly. “You played your role so well...”

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  He wanted to say more, but the words caught in his throat as he looked up at the moon emerging from behind the clouds. It was full, exceptionally bright and clear that night. The Not-a-Doctor stared at the silver disc for a long moment, lost in thought. Something in his expression softened, a shift so subtle, but unmistakably sad, resigned.

  Alice watched him, wondering what caused such a change. She wanted to ask, really, she did, but held her tongue. This wasn’t her business. Something deep inside whispered she wouldn’t want to hear the answer anyway. The truth, in this case, was entirely unnecessary.

  “Enjoy your freedom,” he said at last, breaking from his reverie. “It’s time I go.”

  “I know,” Alice replied, handing back his jacket. “You’d better rest. I’ll be needing you again soon.”

  His cold gaze lingered on her face.

  “Really now?” he asked, his voice dripping with venom. “Impossible, Alice. You don’t need me anymore. You’re self-aware, better, completely immune to my twisted little games... Because you are, aren’t you? You repeated it so many times, it had to become true.”

  Alice didn’t respond. There was no good answer to that. The only thing she could have said was an apology, and she was too proud for that. Sure, the worst hormonal storms had passed, but that rebellious spark still lingered. No, she wouldn’t be drawn into a fight she had no chance of winning.

  “Let it go, girl,” the black-haired man whispered, leaning closer, eyes locked on hers. “Sometimes it’s not worth getting hung up on mistakes.”

  “I know,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming back.”

  He laughed at that.

  “You amuse me, Alice,” he said, rising from the ground. “You can’t come back if you never really left.”

  He didn’t wait for a reply. He just stood up and vanished, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

  Morning came. The house, once so full of life, now felt empty. Breakfast alone. Perfect silence. Horrible emptiness. She tried to focus on something—anything—but everything slipped from her fingers, and her thoughts kept twisting, spinning, piercing. She gave up after a few hours. What was even the point? The constant fight with herself, wrestling with something that didn’t even have shape. How was she supposed to walk her path when she couldn’t even see a destination?

  Existential questions gripped her: Who am I? What am I even doing here? Doubt after doubt piled on, like a song with one wrong note, a note no one could quite hear but everyone somehow felt was off. Why was she even thinking about this? Then again, wasn’t it the perfect day for reflection? A quiet day. A calm day. Her day. She could think about whatever she wanted, for as long as she wanted. It would be a waste not to take advantage of that.

  She went to her room, sat at her vanity, and looked into the mirror. Not just a glance, but that deep, analytical stare. She was searching for something. Probably that false note. Her eyes scanned her reflection inch by inch. Her face was hers, but something felt wrong. The most important thing was slipping through her fingers. How could she possibly find it? She stared for one hour. Then another. Then a third. Her stomach growled. Her mouth was dry. But she didn’t budge. She knew it was something small. Something she knew already. Something just barely out of reach, always slipping past the edge of her awareness.

  Then, she froze.

  Alice opened her eyes wide and in her mind repeated one word: Consciousness.

  “You said I’d die,” she whispered to herself, recalling her subconscious’s voice. “That I’d die because...”

  She didn’t finish. There was no need. She’d finally grasped what had kept escaping her. She knew that face, knew it too well. It was her own, but the eyes were not. Just beneath her gaze lurked someone else’s. Eyes that didn’t belong. Someone was waiting, watching, for the right moment. It was the gaze of the woman with the cigarette. And suddenly, all those memories, where she had only ever seen her as a blurry shape, became crystal clear.

  “You were the one who waited,” she said softly, leaning toward the mirror.

  “Goodbye,” replied the woman with the cigarette. “Your time is up.”

  There was no pain, no darkness. Nothing, really. She simply blinked, and the sensation of double vision vanished. Had something changed? At first, she didn’t feel any difference at all, so how could she be sure? And yet, after a few long moments, she realized the music in her head had become harmonious, clear, perfect. The false note was gone. One element had shifted; everything else remained the same. A small detail that changed everything. She smiled to herself and kept staring at her reflection.

  After a few minutes, she noticed another change. Maybe the face was still the same. Maybe the color of her eyes hadn’t shifted. But the aura around her, that was different. More mysterious, stronger, and in its own way, darker. It unsettled her, to see a glint in her own eyes that had never been there before. To feel the weight of transformation without knowing what she was now capable of. It was truly strange.

  There was nothing left holding her to that house. She’d given the animals to good homes, burned the relics of the past that would only have gotten in the way, and locked up the rest, leaving it in a forgotten corner of the forest. She left for college. The money in her account, what little there was, went toward renting an apartment and buying the basics to survive. She sold a few small items she’d dug up from the bunker. It wasn’t much, but people paid her well for it.

  She found an advisor and asked for help. The bunker wasn’t an endless source of income. Besides, she felt uneasy making money off the belongings of the dead, especially those who had died so tragically. She knew whose bags those had been. She wasn’t a history expert, but you’d have to be willfully blind not to realize that some of those suitcase items were marked with the Star of David.

  That’s why she couldn’t just waste the money. Let’s leave unspoken the fact that she wanted more than she’d ever had before. Much more.

  The advisor clicked his tongue thoughtfully, made suggestions. But she knew he had more to offer. Just a small push of energy was enough to make him prove it. Another, and he felt an irresistible need to earn money for her. And one last surge, to ensure he stayed loyal through it all. She didn’t care how he multiplied the money. All that mattered was the outcome.

  And that’s how Alice’s adult life began.