We didn't sleep that night.
The living room was dimly lit by the city lights outside, casting golden bars across the hardwood floor. I sat curled up on the armchair, notebook in my lap, while Hoai Trach paced in front of the window like a panther caged too long.
"This man in the raincoat," he said at last, "do you remember his face?"
I shook my head slowly.
"No. Just... the feeling. Like he didn't belong here. Like I didn't belong."
His eyes flicked toward me. I expected doubt. But all I saw was quiet calculation.
He believed me.
"Who else knows about this notebook?" he asked.
"No one. I only found it today."
"Then we need to move fast," he said, turning back toward the window. "Before whoever sent those messages makes another move."
The silence stretched. I finally stood up, hugging the notebook to my chest.
"You believe me too easily," I said softly.
He turned.
"Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I've stopped underestimating you."
I didn't know what to say to that.
So I changed the subject.
"What do we do now?"
He crossed the room and pulled out his phone.
"I'm calling someone. An old friend. He works in cyber intelligence."
"Wait. You have friends?"
A smile—real, small—curved his lips. "One or two. Rare species."
I laughed, a breathless sound, surprised at myself.
This was not how the original plot was supposed to go.
We weren't supposed to be working together, planning things in the middle of the night like partners in a spy film.
He wasn't supposed to look at me like that—as if I was more than a mistake.
As if I mattered.
By morning, the plan was clear.
Hoai Trach's contact had traced the signal from the messages. It was masked, rerouted through dozens of locations, but the source was narrowed down to an abandoned hotel on the outskirts of the city.
Cliché? Yes.
Terrifying? Also yes.
We drove in silence. The notebook sat between us on the seat, like a bomb waiting to go off.
"Are you sure about this?" I asked, watching the buildings blur past.
"No," he said. "But I'm sure I'd rather walk into danger than let it come to you."
The way he said it...
I turned to the window, hiding the flush rising in my cheeks.
When we arrived, the hotel was worse than I imagined. Moldy walls. Broken windows. Graffiti scrawled like screams across the doors.
But someone had been here recently.
The front desk had a cigarette still smoldering in an ashtray.
"This feels like a trap," I whispered.
"It probably is," he said.
And still, we entered.
The elevator was dead, so we took the stairs—every creak of the steps echoing in the empty halls. My heart thudded in my ears as we reached the third floor.
That's when I saw him.
The man.
Raincoat. Back turned. Standing at the end of the hallway.
"Stay behind me," Hoai Trach murmured.
But I was already moving forward.
The man turned slowly.
And for the first time—I saw his face.
It was... familiar.
Not in the way someone on TV is familiar, but deeper.
Like a memory I hadn't unlocked yet.
His eyes locked on mine.
"You remember," he said softly.
I blinked.
"What?"
"You remember the other world. The real one."
My knees almost gave out.
What did he just say?
Hoai Trach stepped forward, voice cold and sharp.
"Who are you?"
The man looked at him—then back at me.
"She was never supposed to be here," he said, ignoring the question. "You weren't meant to become her."
He stepped closer. I backed up.
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
"I mean this isn't your story."
His words hit like a punch.
"Then whose is it?" I whispered.
He tilted his head.
"The story you've taken... belonged to someone else."
Behind me, I heard Hoai Trach draw in a breath.
"You're saying... she stole this life?"
The man in the raincoat looked almost sad.
"No. She survived it."
Then, without warning, he turned—and ran.
"Go!" Hoai Trach shouted.
We chased him through the halls, down the stairs, into the alley behind the hotel.
But he was gone.
Just like that.
Gone.
We stood there, both breathing hard, staring into the empty alley.
"He knew," I gasped. "He knows who I am."
Hoai Trach nodded slowly.
"And he's not the only one. Whoever's behind this... they're not finished."
I shivered, even though the sun was shining now.
"I need to know more," I whispered. "I need to know everything."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he held out his hand.
"Then we find the truth. Together."
And for once, I took his hand without fear.