Chapter 6.1

Chapter 6.1

After wiping away my tears, I opened the gallery. There were no photos of friends, places, or food—just a collection of incomprehensible images.

As I zoomed in on one, I instinctively glanced towards the door of the hospital room. They looked like documents. Could they be something important and official, worth photographing? Deciding to investigate later, I left the gallery.

From then on, I memorized my phone inside and out, hoping it would minimize my mistakes. Soon, it was Housekeeper Ahn’s turn to be scrutinized. Her entry had a single word: ‘God.’ This detail stood out to me. Housekeeper Ahn had served our family for many years.

I’d heard she started working for us when my great uncle was alive and continued even after Miss Yena was left alone. Maybe that’s why the word ‘God’ felt so poignant.

Given her long tenure, she likely knew all the family secrets. I had always thought of her as just a kind person, but now I sensed she could be a valuable ally.

There was also Team leader Jeong Han-il that CEO Jang had mentioned. His descriptor was ‘fire.’ I took note of his face—he looked incredibly cunning.

Luckily, I had an excellent memory, and after one look, I could recall faces and details perfectly. Soon, I had memorized every person and comment from my phone’s gallery. With the additional information from the former secretary and the information team, I felt ready to return to work.

My determination burned fiercely. There has never been a time where I felt a clear sense of purpose.

I searched Miss Yena’s bag. It contained only a pouch with cosmetics and a wallet. Perhaps she needed a larger bag for her laptop.

Moving on to the laptop, I turned it on. As the Chief said, only emails were recovered inside, and at least they were work-related.

“Hmmm.”

There must be a safe in her room. Could there be any hints about the password?

I opened the pouch and found two small keys tied together. They weren’t room keys. What could they be for? I put the keys back in the pouch. I would need to find where they fit, either at home or at the office.

Late in the afternoon, I received a message from Director Han, asking me to come to his office. I remembered my grandfather’s words—to listen to what Director Han had to say.

Determined, I walked to his office, despite Housekeeper Ahn’s insistence that I should still use a wheelchair. I believed walking was essential for my quick recovery. After asking for directions, I reached the office.

“Phew.”

I was nervous. I was about to uncover the secret known only to the neurologist, Director Han, my grandfather, and Miss Yena. I had to be careful not to give anything away. After knocking, I opened the door to Director Han’s office. He rose from the sofa with an emotional expression and grasped my hands.

“Yena, it’s a miracle!”

“What?”

He locked the door and guided me to the sofa, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

“All the test results are normal. This is unprecedented.”

I blinked. Normal results? Did that mean Miss Yena had been seriously ill?

“What?”

“Yena, every single test result is normal. There’s no more shortness of breath or trembling. You’re completely healthy.”

A memory flashed of Miss Yena struggling to breathe, a look of panic on her face. She had told me it was asthma. So it wasn’t asthma after all.

“Does Grandfather know?”

“I informed him immediately. He was skeptical at first but was thrilled when I showed him the results.”

I decided to take a bold step.

“Director Han.”

“Yes, Yena?”

“There’s something I haven’t told you.”

“What is it?”

“I… I don’t remember many things.”

I thought this was the best way to avoid suspicion while living in Miss Yena’s body.

Director Han was taken aback.

“But your brain scans were clear.”

“Yes, I didn’t tell anyone. I thought my memory would return, but it hasn’t.”

“Is it certain periods you can’t remember, or specific events?”

“I remember my family, but nothing about work or people I knew when I was younger. When CEO Jang visited, I didn’t recognize him at first. I thought it best to keep this a secret.”

As I spoke, I surprised myself with how convincingly I lied. My calm demeanor and expressions left no room for doubt. Director Han looked grave, pondering my words for a while before speaking.

“It seems like dissociative amnesia…”

“I think so too.”

“And you still don’t remember anything from your childhood?”

Still? I answered calmly.

“No.”

He sighed deeply.

“Maybe it’s natural that you don’t remember. They must all be memories you’d rather forget.”

I listened carefully. If he was referring to memories I’d want to forget, he might be talking about when my parents died. I decided to take another risk.

“Actually, I don’t even remember what illness I had.”

Director Han looked surprised.

“You were suspected of having ALS, Miss Yena.”

“ALS?”

“It’s also known as Lou Gehrig’s disease. Recently, your condition was rapidly worsening.”