For a moment, neither of them moved.
Felicity stood in the doorway, her sapphire eyes locked onto Henry with an intensity that made his breath catch. It wasn't hostile… far from it. But there was something in her gaze that felt like it could see straight through him, past his skin, past his bones, into the very core of his soul.
Henry's heart hammered in his chest. "This is her. This is my… mother."
The word felt foreign in his mind. In his previous life, he'd lost his parents when he was three. The memories were hazy… flashes of warmth, laughter, the smell of his mother's perfume. But it had been so long ago that they felt more like dreams than reality.
And now, here he was, staring at a woman who was technically a stranger… but who looked at him like he was her entire world.
Felicity took a slow step forward, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Then another. Her expression was carefully controlled, but Henry could see the cracks… the way her jaw tightened, the subtle tremble in her hands as she clasped them together.
She stopped at the edge of his bed, her gaze sweeping over him as if checking for injuries. When she seemed satisfied that he was in one piece, her shoulders sagged slightly, and she let out a breath she'd been holding.
"Henry," she said softly. Her voice was like silk… smooth, elegant, but carrying an undercurrent of emotion that made Henry's chest tighten.
He didn't know what to say:
"Hi, Mom"?
"Sorry I don't remember you"?
"You're really beautiful"?
They all felt wrong. Inadequate.
So instead, he just stared back at her, his mind racing.
Felicity's lips curved into a small, sad smile. "You don't remember me, do you?" she asked softly.
Henry hesitated, then shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be." Her voice was gentle, but there was a firmness beneath it. "Jane told me about your memory loss. It's not your fault."
She pulled up a chair and sat down beside the bed, her posture perfect but somehow still relaxed. Up close, Henry could see the faint lines of worry etched into her face. This wasn't just concern. This was guilt.
"I'm glad you're safe," Felicity continued, her gaze dropping to her hands. "When Jane told me they'd found you in the forest, injured…" She trailed off, her voice catching slightly. "I thought I'd lost you."
Henry's throat felt tight. He didn't know what to say to that. This woman… his mother, was clearly in pain. And it was because of him. Or rather, because of the person whose body he now inhabited.
"The real Henry ran away," he reminded himself. "He left her. And now she thinks I'm him."
The weight of that realization settled over him like a heavy blanket.
"I'm sorry," Henry said again, his voice quiet. "For running away. For worrying you."
Felicity looked up at him, her eyes shimmering slightly. "You don't need to apologize, Henry. I know why you left."
Henry blinked. "You do?"
Felicity nodded slowly. "You were angry. At me." Her voice was steady, but there was a rawness to it that made Henry's chest ache. "And you had every right to be."
Henry frowned, confused. Angry? Why?
He wanted to ask, but something in Felicity's expression stopped him. She looked… fragile. Like one wrong word might shatter her completely.
So instead, he said, "I don't remember being angry."
Felicity's lips twitched into a faint smile. "Hmm. And maybe that's a good thing."
She reached out slowly, as if giving him time to pull away, and placed her hand over his. Her touch was warm, soft, and oddly comforting.
"Henry," she said gently, "I need you to listen to me. Whatever happened between us before you ran away… it doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that you're here. You're safe. And I'm going to do everything in my power to help you recover."
Henry swallowed hard. There was something about her tone that made him want to believe her. She also had this fierce but calming aura around her. She was definitely a powerful person.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Felicity's smile widened slightly, and she squeezed his hand. "Good."
For a moment, they just sat there in comfortable silence. Henry found himself studying her more closely…the elegant curve of her jaw, the way her white hair caught the light, the faint scars on her knuckles that spoke of a life filled with battle.
She was beautiful, yes. But more than that, she was strong. The kind of strength that didn't need to announce itself. It just… was. Like a glacier disguised as silk.
"Can I ask you something?" Henry said suddenly.
Felicity tilted her head slightly. "Of course."
"Jane said you're an expert with the mind. What did she mean by that?"
Felicity's expression shifted slightly…something between amusement and caution. "She was referring to one of my abilities. I have… let's call it a gift for understanding how the mind works."
Henry's eyes widened. "You mean like mind reading?"
Felicity chuckled softly. "Well… yes. But it's also more like… awareness. I can sense thoughts, emotions, intentions. But I don't invade people's thoughts without their permission… sometimes."
Henry's eyes widened. He felt a chill run down his spine. "Holy shit! She's psychic!" he panicked inwardly. But it wasn't the fact that she even had had an ability that startled him… he already saw a man punch a colossal beast and send it flying. It was the fact that her ability was a type that could easily expose him… if it hasn't already had.
His mind immediately went into overdrive. "Does she know?" he pondered. "Does she know I'm not really her son?"
But Felicity's expression remained calm, almost serene. If she sensed his panic, she didn't show it.
"Don't worry," she said, as if reading his thoughts… though he wasn't sure if she actually was or just guessing. "I'm not reading your mind right now. I wouldn't do that without asking first."
Henry let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Oh. Okay. Good."
Felicity's smile turned slightly mischievous. "Though I will say, you're much more talkative than you used to be." she chuckled.
Henry froze. "Shit!" he cursed inwardly.
I-I am?" he stammered.
Felicity nodded, her gaze studying him curiously. "Mm-hmm. The old you never spoke to me… or anyone even, unless absolutely necessary. But now…" She tilted her head. "You're almost… lively."
Henry's mind raced for an excuse. "Maybe it's the memory loss? Like, I forgot to be… quiet?" he tried to explain.
Felicity laughed… a soft, genuine sound that made Henry relax slightly. "Maybe. Or maybe you're finally letting yourself be yourself."
Henry blinked. "What do you mean?"
Felicity's expression softened. "You've always been so guarded, Henry. Even as a child. You kept everyone at arm's length, including me." Her voice dropped slightly. "I always wondered if it was something I did. If I failed you somehow."
Henry's chest tightened. He could hear the pain in her voice, see it in her eyes. This woman… this stranger, was carrying so much guilt. And it wasn't even his fault. It was the real Henry's.
"I don't think you failed me," Henry said quietly, hoping to comfort her somehow.
Felicity looked at him, surprise flickering across her face.
"I mean," Henry continued, scrambling for the right words, "I don't remember everything. But… from what I can tell, you care about me a lot. And that doesn't seem like failure to me."
For a moment, Felicity just stared at him. Then, slowly, her eyes began to glisten.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Henry shifted awkwardly. He wasn't good with emotional moments. But before he could say anything, Felicity stood abruptly, composing herself with a deep breath.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice steady again. "I didn't mean to get emotional. It's just… it's been a long few days."
"It's okay," Henry said quickly. "I get it."
Felicity smiled, then glanced toward the door. "Jane and Xavier are preparing a full report on what happened in the forest. But before we leave, I want to try something."
Henry raised a brow. "Try what?"
Felicity stepped closer, her gaze softening. "I want to see if I can help you recover your memories," she explained.
Henry's stomach dropped. "Oh no." he thought.
"Is that… safe?" he asked cautiously.
"Perfectly," Felicity assured him. "I'll just… gently nudge your mind. See if I can unlock anything that's been buried."
Henry's pulse quickened. He was very well familiar with what she was trying to do. He'd watch enough movies to know that mind invasion usually revealed A Lot of things about the victim.
"If she goes into my mind, she'll know," his mind raced. "She'll know I'm not her son. She'll see everything."
"I-I don't know if that's a good idea," Henry voiced out quickly. "What if it makes things worse?"
Felicity paused, studying him carefully. "Are you afraid?" she asked.
"A little," Henry admitted. Which wasn't a lie. He didn't know what she'd do to him if she found out he had taken over her presumed dead son's body.
Felicity's expression softened further. "I won't force you, Henry. But if you're willing to let me try, I promise I'll be gentle." she said.
Henry hesitated. On one hand, this was a terrible idea. On the other… refusing might make her suspicious.
"Damn it! I don't have a choice," he thought.
"Okay," he said finally. "But… go easy on me?"
Felicity smiled warmly. "Of course."She reached out and placed her hand gently on his forehead. Her touch was cool, soothing.
"Close your eyes," she instructed softly.
Henry obeyed, his heart pounding.
For a moment, there was nothing. Just darkness and the sound of his own breathing.
Then…
He felt a presence.
It was subtle at first, like a whisper brushing against the edges of his consciousness. Gentle. Curious. Warm.
But then Henry felt something shift. A sudden pressure building in his skull, like someone was pressing against a locked door in his mind.
He flinched instinctively.
Felicity pulled back immediately, her eyes widening with concern. "Henry?" she called out. "Are you okay?"
Henry gasped, his hand flying to his temple. "I-I'm fine. Just… it felt weird."
Felicity frowned, her expression troubled. "I barely touched your mind and you reacted like that. There's definitely something blocking your memories." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed."
"It's okay," Henry said quickly, relief flooding through him. "You were just trying to help."
Felicity studied him for a moment longer, then nodded slowly. "We'll figure this out together. I promise," she said. And before Henry could react, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
The moment her lips touched his skin, something exploded in his mind.
Images.
Voices.
Memories.
Thousands of them, rushing in all at once like a dam breaking. He could see it all now… the memories of his predecessor.
He could see a small boy sitting alone in a massive bedroom, staring out the window at a world he didn't belong to. He could see woman with white hair trying to hug him, only for him to pull away, his expression cold and distant.
He could see a girl laughing and trying to get his attention, only to be met with silence. He could see school... or rather, the absence of it. Tutors coming and going, frustrated by his refusal to engage.
He could see the streets of the City at night, viewed from a rooftop. The boy… Henry, sitting there for hours, alone, watching the world move without him.
And beneath it all, a crushing weight. Loneliness. Isolation. A sense of not belonging.
Henry could see that his predecessor didn't want to be in the world. He never wanted to be there. It was as if he was dead inside. An old man living inside the body of a child.
The memories kept coming, faster and faster, until Henry couldn't tell where they ended and he began.
And then… he heard a familiar voice, one that cut through the chaos.
"You're weak!" It was the same cold voice he heard in the ship. And it snapped him out of the jumble of memories.
Henry's eyes shot open. He was gasping for air, his chest heaving, sweat dripping down his face.
Felicity was staring at him, her expression a mix of shock and concern. "Henry? What's wrong?" she asked urgently.
"I—" Henry's voice cracked. "I'm fine… I just need a minute."
Felicity nodded quickly. "Of course," she said, though not completely convinced. "Take all the time you need."
Henry scrambled out of the bed, his legs shaky, and stumbled toward the bathroom door on the far side of the room.
Felicity was deeply worried. She moved. "Henry—"
"I'm fine," he said quickly, forcing a smile. "Just… need to splash some water on my face."
Before Felicity could respond, he slipped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.
He leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly, his knuckles white. His reflection stared back at him in the mirror… pale, wide-eyed, trembling.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered.
But deep down, he already knew. They were the real memories of Henry, his predecessor. And they were his now.
His name was… is, Henry Myers. And he was the literal embodiment of isolation. A ghost living in the real world.
He had it all… a loving family, a wealthy background, and a good future. His mother, Felicity Myers was one of the most powerful and influential people in the world. She was considered a legend… a strong, wealthy and formidable woman.
And Henry was her son.
That alone made him an automatic celebrity. But his predecessor never saw it that way. He was a hollow shell of a person who pushed everyone away because he didn't want to connect. Who ran away because he couldn't take it anymore.
And now, Henry… this Henry, was living in his place.
"I'm not him," Henry whispered to his reflection. "I'm not… I can't live like that."
But even as he said it, doubt crept in.
"So… how do I live?"
His reflection didn't answer. It just stared back at him. Waiting for an answer that never come.