After Hector left, I noticed something on the floor—his ID card, which was likely dropped by accident when he pulled out the other card.
I rushed out to give it to him, but was struck by an oncoming car. When I regained consciousness, strange memories flooded my mind. For two years, the fake Edna had been living in my body. In these memories, Hector had spent time with the fake Edna—eating, watching movies, and traveling together. He no longer claimed to be too busy, nor did he ask her to be more sensible.
On her birthday, Hector booked an entire amusement park and surprised her with a doll costume, presenting a carefully prepared gift. Fireworks lit up the sky all night, nearly illuminating the entire evening. They had even planned a trip to Paris, where Hector promised to give her a beloved princess pumpkin carriage and castle.
The night before their departure, the fake Edna drank too much and stumbled down the stairs. The following day, it was me—Edna—who woke up in the hospital, not the version Edna Hector had been with.
Less than two weeks passed before Hector began to notice something was wrong. He asked, "Who are you?"