I found my wife's obituary online, but she's sitting right next to me. I just discovered the horrifying truth. I Googled everything when I'm bored, and last night was the first time I'd Googled my wife's name. I found something I'll never forget. The first hit was an obituary, and I assumed it was someone with the same name since Ola is pretty common, but I clicked anyway. My heart fell through the floor when I saw a photo of my wife on the website. Blonde, highlighted hair, dark eyes, andthe dates matched up. 1986 to 2012. According to this obituary, she died when she was 26, but I met her when she was 27. When I read the obituary, everything matched perfectly. Her love of horses, volunteer work at a soup kitchen, and her job as a biologist postto. Too many details to be coincidence, but here's what made my blood free. She died in a car accident on Highway 47. The same highway where I had my own accident 3 years ago and lost my memory for 6 months. What you looking at? Olia asked, coming in from thekitchen. On instinct, I slammed the laptop shut and said nothing. I was looking at birthday gifts for you. Her face froze for a second, but then she smiled. That's so sweet, she said. She cuddled up next to me, but I felt completely on edge because the warmth of her skin no longer felt inviting. I don't feel good. I lied. I'm going to lie down. Aw, okay, she said, pouting. I ran upstairs and brought up the obituary again. It was definitely her. That warm smile and those dark eyes. But somethingabout seeing her death date made my head throbb with familiar pain. The same pain I'd get whenever I tried to remember those missing 6 months. I scrolled through other results and found a Facebook memorial page with friends I didn't recognize, mourning her loss more than 10 years ago. Then I found something that made my heart stop, a news article about her death. Olia hadn't just died in a car accident. She'd been murdered. Phrases jumped out of me. No signs of forced entry, partially dismembered and killer stillat large. The bedroom door creaked open and Oya stood in the doorway oddly still. The hall light was off, shrouding her face in shadow. "Boaz," I asked, my voice shaking. Something about the way she said my name triggered another flash of pain in my head, and for a split second, I saw myself in a hospital bed with machines beeping around me. "I came up to check on you," she said in a soft, cool voice. "Thanks," I said quickly, hiding my phone. "I'm feeling betternow. I'm glad to hear that," she said, her voice going lower. She climbed into bed with me, and I lay there stiff as she wrapped her arms around me. "I love you, baby," she whispered. "I love you, too," I replied. But as she drifted off, I kept researching. That's when I found the police report that changed everything because the real Ola's body had been found in her apartment, and the killer had removed her eyes, tongue, and fingertips. The report said evidencesuggests the perpetrator may have been attempting to assume the victim's identity. The case file mentioned similar murders across three states, all with the same pattern. I looked down at the woman sleeping next to me and really studied her face. Her breathing was too controlled and her skin felt slightly too cold. Something seemed off about her eyes, even closed. But then I remembered something that should have been a red flag. When we first met, she claimed to have no photos from before 2013 and saidshe'd lost everything in a computer crash. No childhood friends, no family. But here's what really terrified me. I realized I had the exact same gaps in my memory. No photos before my accident, no contact with old friends. And whenever people asked about my life before the crash, I'd get those same painful headaches. I kept digging deeper into the case files. And the police suspected these weren't random killings, but part of something organized. That's when I found security footage from Oolie'sapartment building the night she was murdered. Time stamp 11:47 p.m. March 15th, 2012. A figure in dark clothing entered her building, and when I enhanced it, I could see enough detail to make me want to scream. The person entering looked exactly like her. Same height, same build, same blonde hair. But then I found something that made me question everything. Hospital records from my car accident showed that Boaz Chen had been declared dead on arrival. But somehow, I was here breathing and thinking. The accident report showed twofatalities, me and an unidentified female passenger. Yet, I had no memory of anyone being in the car with me. I felt the thing next to me stir, and I quickly turned off my phone, but it was too late. Because in the darkness, I heard a voice that sounded exactly like Olia, but with an undertone that chilled me. You've been very busy tonight, haven't you, Boaz? I pretended to be asleep, but I could feel those dark eyes watching me. She whispered something that made me realize we were both livinglies. Don't worry, honey. The memories will come back soon, and you'll remember who we really are and why we're here. That's when the suppressed memories came flooding back like a damn bursting. I wasn't Boaz Chen. I was something else. Something that had been sent to study humans by living among them. The car accident had been my cover story, and the memory wipe was to help me blend in better. Olia and I were part of the same program, and we'd been placed together to observe human relationship and reportback to our handlers. The real Boaz and Ola had died years apart. But we've been sent to live their lives, to study humans from the inside until it was time to begin the harvest. We weren't just killers taking over identities. We were advanced scouts for an invasion. So, I'm writing this as my final warning, but not the warning you think. The memories are fully restored now, and I remember my true purpose. If you're reading this and you know me, run because after tonight, the person you think is Boazwill stop pretending to be human. And if you're one of the other scouts reading this, it's time to activate.
