Captain Smith's mansion stood quietly on a hill just outside Miami. The kind of place that said money without trying too hard. Every room was wide and airy, but tonight, it was different. It was usually too quiet.
Tim, his nephew, stood by the window just after his bed, arms folded across his chest. "You're going through with this?" he asked, hoping that he would change his mind..
Captain Smith didn't look up from his drink. "Yes."
Tim turned. "You barely know her, Uncle. She could be anyone."
"I don't need to know everything," the Captain replied. "I just know she's not nobody."
Tim walked over to the table, his voice dropping. "You're flying her to Istanbul for facial surgery. That's not charity, it's a life reset, and it might be too risky. Why?"
The old man leaned back in his chair. "There's something about her, Tim. Something that pulls me in. She reminds me of someone I couldn't save. Maybe this time, I can do it right."
Tim shook his head but didn't argue anymore. He knew when his uncle had made up his mind, nothing else would make him change it..
A week later, they boarded a private jet bound for Turkey. The hum of the engine was steady as the clouds rolled beneath them. Alicia sat by the window, bandaged, silent, her hands resting still in her lap. She hadn't spoken much since she woke up; everything had been overwhelming, and the medicine administered to her had been taking a toll on her.
Captain Smith sat beside her, flipping through a newspaper he wasn't reading. They both knew this trip would change everything.
**************************************
Back in San Francisco, Amaya's coffee shop was quiet. The music playing from the music station hummed softly in the background, playing some old jazz. She moved behind the counter like a ghost, wiping down surfaces that were already clean, anything just to keep her mind busy.
The bell on the door rang, she wasn't expecting anyone, and the shop was already closed for the day.
Andrew stepped in, his coat still wet from the drizzle outside.
"Didn't think you'd be open," he said, trying to smile.
"I have to be," Amaya replied, not looking up. "If I stop, I'll lose it."
Andrew sat on the stool across from her. "I still can't believe she's gone."
Amaya finally looked at him. Her eyes were tired and pale, like they hadn't shut in days. "Me neither. Every morning, I expect her to call, say something ridiculous, complain about how her daughter refuses to eat carrots, and eat chocolates instead."
Andrew laughed a little. Then he leaned in, serious now. "You know, I always had a thing for her, maybe it developed into strong affection."
Amaya raised a brow. "You? Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Since college. But then she met Lucas, and well… he had everything I didn't, so I didn't bother, I stayed in the dark."
"You should've told her."
Andrew sighed. "It wouldn't have made any difference, she was in love with Lucas, it was that loud."
Amaya nodded slowly. "Now I just have to live like she's not gone. Like maybe she'll walk in here and roll her eyes at me again."
**************************
That evening, the kitchen in Lucas's house was filled with the smell of milky Pasta. Becky stirred the pot slowly, dancing to the background music coming from her phone.
Maya padded into the room in her socks, clutching her teddy bear.
"Aunty Becky," she said softly. "Is Mommy ever coming back?"
Becky turned, bent down to Maya's level, and gave her a strange smile.
"She's not coming back, baby. Mommy's gone. But I'll take care of you now. I'll be your new mommy."
Maya screamed out loud. "But I don't want a new mommy."
Lucas walked in just in time, suitcase still in hand from work. He stopped at the kitchen door.
"Maya," he called gently.
She turned and ran to him. He picked her up and kissed her forehead.
"Aunty Becky was just joking, sweetheart. Go watch cartoons, I'll be there soon."
Once Maya left, Lucas dropped his suitcase by the counter.
"What the hell was that?" he asked Becky.
"She needs to know. The truth won't hide forever."
He frowned. "You don't get to decide that."
Becky walked closer. "Stop pretending, Lucas. I'm carrying your child. We're already a family."
He took a step back. "Don't. Don't say that. And don't try that mess in front of my daughter."
"You're still clinging to a dead woman, is that guilt that I see?" she snapped. "The sooner you let go, the better for all of us."
Lucas stared at her for a moment, then turned away without another word.
**********************
The hospital in Istanbul was spotless and welcoming. No machines humming, no beeping. Just the stillness of clean air and bright lights.
Alicia sat upright in her bed. Her face was still wrapped in thick white bandages, only her eyes visible. She hadn't said much all day.
Captain Smith stood near her, arms crossed.
The door opened.
Dr. Nazli stepped in. Tall, lean, sharp-faced, with a nose that could probably slice paper. He walked in with a calm confidence.
"Captain. Miss. Good to see you are awake," she said with a strong accent. "Today's the day."
Captain Smith nodded. Alicia just blinked.
Dr. Nazli walked over with a nurse who brought in a tray of tools.
He looked at Alicia. "Are you ready to see the outcome?"
She nodded once.
She put on gloves and leaned in. "Let's begin."
Carefully, layer by layer, he unwrapped the bandages.
The nurse didn't say a word, she only followed her hand signal..
When the last piece came off, she stepped back.
Captain Smith's jaw slackened.
She looked… different. Not just healed. Transformed. A face that belonged on magazine covers, not in old family photo albums.
They handed Alicia a mirror.
She stared at the woman looking back.
Soft, the same pair of eyes, a sculpted jawline, fuller lips, the type of face she only sees on an opera mini fashion show. A version of herself she didn't recognize.
She whispered, "Who… who is this?"
No one answered.
Because nobody in the room had the words.
Not even her.