Blythe’s stomach dropped.

  “What?”

  Her thoughts felt fuzzy at the edges. How did Jessica know? Did she see her planner somehow? What was she planning to do with this information?

  And more importantly, what could Blythe even say to her?

  With a start, she realized she still had soap on her hands. She hastily washed it off.

  “You don’t have to pretend anymore,” Jessica said, patting her shoulder with one hand. “I know what’s going on.”

  Blythe tried laughing it off. "What do you mean?"

  Was she going to be thrown in prison for impersonating the daughter of a duke, even though she'd involuntarily woken up in her literal body?

  With a shake of her head, Jessica gave her a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, Blythe. I'm on your side no matter what. You don't have to hide it from me. I know you have amnesia."

  Her heart, which had been doing a thousand beats per second, came to a sudden stop for the briefest of moments.

  Of all the accusations she had been expecting, being assumed to have amnesia, the most rational deduction among them, was somehow the lowest on the list. Of course Jessica wasn't going to come out swinging with an outrageous claim like her being isekai-ed from another world to explain away her peculiar behavior.

  If the roles were reversed, the thought would never even have occurred to Blythe.

  She couldn't tell if she was more relieved that Jessica hadn't guessed at her true identity or terrified that Jessica might expect something from her to keep this a secret.

  She took a deep breath and affected an air of composure, all the while quaking in her boots on the inside. Blythe's pretty but somehow fierce face stared back at her in the mirror. She really did look worthy of being a villainess in an otome game.

  "I don't know what you're talking about," she said as serenely as she could manage. "Why would you say that?"

  She wanted Jessica to show her hand first before admitting to anything. Sure, she'd definitely acted out of character over the few days she'd been adjusting to this new world, especially with her new persona she was inventing. However, it would still be useful to learn some specific examples of what she'd done that was the smoking gun for her supposed amnesia.

  "Something must have happened last Wednesday," Jessica said. "You've changed completely since coming back to school the day after that."

  "But I've told you I'm trying to change myself and improve as a person," Blythe reminded her.

  "There's working on yourself, and then there's becoming a totally different person. If you really have all your memories, then could you tell me what you said about Gemma at the garden tea party you hosted the previous weekend?"

  That stumped her.

  Obviously, Blythe had no way of knowing what the original Blythe did or did not say about anyone at a tea party that took place before she got transmigrated here. If she took a wild guess and gave an incorrect answer, which was extremely likely, she would get exposed.

  She tried to school her features into an offended scowl. "You're the one making a ridiculous assertion here. I'm not going to play along with your silly questions."

  Jessica studied her for a couple of seconds before sighing. "I suppose I'll have to back my argument with some evidence. I heard from some people what you did last week. The Blythe I know, no matter how much she was trying to change, would never have bowed to Willoughby and apologized for putting her in her place like she deserved. And it doesn't make sense that since last Thursday, you've asked Sophie and me to ignore Willoughby's transgressions."

  Her jaw dropped. "Transgressions? Isn't that a little much? Daisy hasn't done anything."

  Jessica made it sound like Daisy had committed animal cruelty or some other immoral or illegal acts, when all she'd done was to exist and be a pleasant person.

  "See, that's precisely the kind of thing the Blythe I know would never say," Jessica said with a wince. "She knows what a horrible person Willoughby is!"

  Excuse me—who's the horrible person here?

  But it was no use saying that to Jessica since she seemed determined to declaim Daisy's wickedness despite all evidence pointing to the contrary.

  "You can't deny that she hasn't actually done anything. She hasn't tried to trip any of us or pour ink into our bags, has she?"

  "That's not the only issue," Jessica said, glossing over Blythe's pointed question. "Your behavior is so different in ways that can't be attributed to your goal in becoming more mature as a person. For example, you kept looking around in the hallways at school when we were going to class together like you don't already know where everything is. At first, I brushed it off, but I couldn't ignore it anymore when I had to retrieve your art supplies bag for you. There's no reason you couldn't grab it yourself other than that you've lost your memories somehow."

  That was true. Blythe couldn't refute that. Jessica knowing her way around Blythe's locker better than Blythe herself did simply didn't make sense, and she had every right to question that.

  Jessica leaned her back against the sink counter. "You seem unaware about so many things you should know about. Additionally, regardless of how much you want to improve yourself, the Blythe I know would never allow herself to get all sweaty like you did in PE class last Friday."

  Even Reuben had reacted strongly to her first jog at home, so that really must have been Blythe's most hated activity.

  Before Blythe could say anything else, the restroom door smoothly swung open. A bespectacled girl with dark brown pigtails walked in, her eyes fixed on a book her left hand was propping open. She glanced up at Jessica and Blythe, her look of focus transforming into one of intimidated hesitance.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  "Sorry, Alice," Jessica said, her voice polite but her eyes hard. "We're having a conversation here. Could you use the other restroom on this floor?"

  "Oh, yes, certainly," Alice stammered, retreating with hasty steps. "Sorry for intruding."

  "Thanks so much." Jessica's tone brightened, and she smiled warmly at her. "We'll see you around."

  Blythe tried to pull up Alice's profile information, but the restroom door had already closed behind her. She turned her attention back to Jessica, who was staring at her.

  "How was it possible that you didn't know your own art supplies were in the purple drawstring bag, and I did? I can't think of any other explanation for it, but if you can, please enlighten me."

  She was caught. At least Jessica merely thought that she had lost her memories, not that she had been replaced by someone else.

  As she opened her mouth to admit to something of the sort, Jessica stepped forward and took both her hands into hers. Her probing stare softened.

  Caught off-guard by the sudden physical contact and change in atmosphere, Blythe looked down at their hands.

  "It's okay," Jessica said soothingly. "I know it's scary, especially if you feel you can't tell anyone about it, but that's why I waited to talk to you in private about it. I wanted to let you know that I understand what you're going through."

  Blythe blinked. Jessica let go of her hands.

  "What do you mean?"

  Jessica bit her lip, a troubled frown taking over her face. "This is a family secret, really, but I'm telling you this because I want you to know you can trust me."

  "Okay ..."

  "Last summer, when my family and I were in our holiday villa in Eflounia, my mother became dizzy because of her anemia and fell down the stairs. I tried to catch her, but I ... I was too slow." A tremor entered Jessica's voice. "She hit her head against one of the steps. Even though she still knows who my father and I are, she's lost her memories of the last six years. The physician has said that there's no guarantee they'll come back, but that we can only wait and see. I keep forgetting and referencing things that have happened in the past. When she doesn't remember those times we'd spent together, it's like I lost that part of my mother."

  This revelation was so far beyond what Blythe could possibly expected have Jessica to say that words escaped her.

  "I'm so sorry," she eventually managed to squeeze out, after Jessica wiped at the corner of her right eye with a fingertip.

  The corners of Jessica's lips quirked up into a small wistful smile. "Thanks. We're keeping this quiet for obvious reasons. My father and I help to supplement her with relevant up-to-date information whenever the need arises. So when I noticed your recent odd behavior, I was reminded of my mother's situation. I don't know how much you've forgotten, but I want to help you whenever you need it, too. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone else about this."

  She looked sincere. Blythe couldn't sense a hint of deception anywhere in her voice or body language. Not that she was an expert at detecting these things. But she'd pretty much been caught out in not knowing things she really should know as Blythe, so there was no use denying it.

  "I appreciate that," she started with a tentative smile. "You're right. There are some things I don't remember."

  She didn't remember them because they didn't happen to her.

  "Did something happen last Wednesday? You were just fine before Thursday."

  Should she really go all in on this amnesia idea? Blythe felt stuck. What if it came back to bite her later on?

  "I fell and hit my head. When I woke up, I was missing pieces of my memory."

  That sounds convincing enough, right?

  She had tried to keep it as vague as possible.

  "I sensed that something was wrong that Thursday. When you wanted to call us by nicknames and to speak more casually with each other, I knew." Jessica smiled shyly. "Though it's strange to admit, I feel much closer to you now than before."

  "I wanted—I want to be better friends with you and Sophie," Blythe admitted. "After my accident, my perspective on a lot of things have changed."

  "Is that why you're so reluctant to have lunch with His Highness?"

  She cringed. "I'm not being 'reluctant'. I just think I need to ... demonstrate some independence. I mean, it's healthy to have some space from each other, isn't it?"

  Jessica squinted at her. "See, that's exactly the sort of thing the Blythe I know would never say. How much did you forget? Or how much do you remember?"

  If Jessica truly intended to help her out with the things she didn't know, Blythe wondered how much she could get away with saying she'd forgotten. There was a risk of Jessica taking advantage of her if she made it sound like she'd forgotten most things, but it would also be useful having her provide various kinds of information.

  "I'm not sure." She paused. "I've forgotten bits and pieces here and there. Like my art supplies and where some of the classrooms are. And I guess some of my memories with some people."

  "Such as His Highness? I can understand why, if you've lost some of your memories with him, your behavior toward him has been so different."

  If she denied it, she would come across as more suspicious since she would be avoiding interactions with Magnus for no good reason. Blythe's head began to throb. The desire to be home in bed engulfed her entire being.

  "I suppose. From the reactions of the people around me, I know I was head over heels for Magnus before my accident. I don't feel that way toward him now."

  "I'm so sorry." Jessica sounded so mournful, as if this personally affected her somehow. "Does he know?"

  Her heart stilled for the briefest of seconds. The last thing she needed was for Magnus to find out about this and accuse her of lying or for things to become more complicated. Now that she thought about it, it would sound like an excuse that she forgot her strong infatuation with Magnus but somehow retained enough distaste for Daisy to bully her.

  Blythe just hoped she wasn't digging herself into a hole she couldn't climb out of.

  "No! I'm hoping my memories will come back to me soon, so please keep this quiet. Even though I can't remember all the good times between us, I'm making every effort to be a good fiancée to him."

  At least, that was the front she was putting on. Jessica wasn't Reuben; Blythe wasn't about to tell her that she wanted to get out of their engagement. Best friends or not, there was a chance she might let it slip since it wouldn't affect Jessica or her family in any way.

  "As expected of someone with your incredible character!" Jessica gushed, clasping her hands together under her chin. "That's so noble of you to stick to your prior commitments! I've already promised that I won't tell anyone, not even my parents, so please rest assured about this. Will you tell Sophie about your amnesia?"

  "Um ... I might tell her when the time is right." There would never be a right time unless Sophie discovered this on her own. Blythe wanted to avoid having the whole oh-yeah-I-totally-have-amnesia-and-that's-why-I'm-clueless conversation again if possible. "Let's keep this between the two of us for the time being, okay?"

  To her astonishment, she received a green notification light.

  Wow. Did Jessica want to be close to her that badly?

  “I understand,” Jessica said with a calm smile that betrayed none of her delight. "If I were in your shoes, I would want as few people as possible to know too."

  Without seeing the favorability increase notification, Blythe never would have guessed she made Jessica so happy with her simple answer.

  "I knew you'd understand. I'll keep the matter of your mother's amnesia to myself as well. I hope she regains her memories soon."

  Jessica patted her own chest. "If there's anything you want to know about or don't remember, please feel free to ask me. I'll do my best to help you."

  "Thank you, Jess."

  They smiled at each other. The dread in Blythe's gut melted away.

  Then Jessica changed the subject, her tone noticeably lighter. "Valentine's Day is in two weeks. What are you going to do about your handmade chocolates? You forgot about that too, didn't you? You seemed shocked when Sophie and I asked about the taste-testing."

  Jessica really was far sharper than Blythe had taken her for.