Chapter VI (Fructured Memories)

Kianna sat in the dimly lit room, her gaze locked on the rain that drizzled outside. The phone call replayed in her mind over and over, each word sharp and unsettling. Who was that person? And why did they speak as if they knew her so well?

With a heavy sigh, she stood and crossed to the small wooden desk in the corner of her apartment. Slowly, she pulled open a drawer, revealing a scattered pile of old photographs. Most of them were of her childhood—a childhood she barely remembered. Kianna picked up one of the photos, her fingers brushing over the faded image of her younger self, a boy standing beside her. He looked familiar, yet his name was just out of reach, like a word on the tip of her tongue.

"Who are you?" she whispered, staring at the boy's innocent smile.

A knock at the door startled her, snapping her back to the present. Kianna tensed, unsure if she was ready to face anyone after that ominous call. She hesitated for a moment before stepping toward the door, her hand resting on the knob.

"Kianna, open up. It's me," a voice called from the other side.

Recognizing the voice, she let out a relieved breath and unlocked the door. Standing there was her best friend, Yoora, holding two cups of coffee and wearing a concerned expression.

"I figured you might need this," Yoora said, stepping inside.

Kianna took the coffee with a small, grateful smile. "Thanks. You have no idea."

Yoora set her cup down and eyed her friend with worry. "You've been weirdly quiet all day. Something's up. Spill it."

Kianna hesitated. She wasn't sure how much she wanted to share, but she knew Yoora would pry it out of her eventually. Taking a deep breath, she recounted the eerie phone call and the strange message from the unknown person. She even mentioned the photo of the boy she couldn't remember.

Yoora frowned, her brows knitting together. "That's… intense. And creepy. Have you tried looking into your past? I mean, maybe this person knows something you don't."

"I've tried," Kianna said, her frustration evident. "But everything before I was ten is a blur. My parents always brushed off my questions, saying I was too young to remember much. But now… it feels like there's something more."

Yoora chewed her lip thoughtfully. "What about that guy? The one you told me about—the one you think is in the photos. Maybe he's a clue."

Kianna nodded slowly. She had thought about him too, but the more she tried to recall his name, the more it slipped away. It was like a wall had been built in her mind, blocking her from the truth.

"I need to find out who he is," Kianna said, determination creeping into her voice. "And I need to figure out why that caller is suddenly warning me now."

Yoora nodded, her supportive energy unwavering. "We'll figure it out together. But first, maybe it's time to visit your parents again. They might have answers you're not expecting."

Kianna hesitated, the thought of confronting her parents stirring a mix of anxiety and dread. She had always sensed there were things they weren't telling her, but could she handle the truth?

"I'll go," she finally said. "It's time I learned what they've been hiding."

Yoora smiled gently. "Good. I'll be with you every step of the way."

As the rain continued to patter against the window, Kianna felt a growing resolve inside her. The past she had long forgotten was calling her back, and this time, she wouldn't stop until she uncovered the secrets buried in her fractured memories.

The following morning, Kianna stood at the edge of her parents' driveway, heart pounding against her ribs. Their house loomed before her, a familiar sight, but now it felt strange, as if it was holding onto secrets she was never meant to uncover. The sky hung heavy with clouds, casting a dull, gray light over everything, perfectly mirroring the confusion swirling inside her.

Taking a deep breath, she approached the door. Kianna's mind raced, replaying the events of the previous day—the strange phone call, the cryptic warning, and the image of the boy in the photograph. She needed answers, and she had a sinking feeling that they lay buried somewhere in her past.

She knocked on the door, her hand trembling slightly. It didn't take long for her mother to answer, her face lighting up at the sight of her daughter, though Kianna couldn't help but notice the faint tension in her mother's eyes.

"Kianna! What a surprise," her mother said warmly, pulling her into a hug.

Kianna returned the hug, but it felt hollow. "Mom, I need to talk to you and Dad," she said, stepping inside. Her mother raised an eyebrow but led her into the living room without question.

Her father was sitting in his usual armchair, reading a newspaper. He glanced up as they entered, setting the paper aside with a curious smile. "What's going on, sweetheart?

Kianna didn't waste any time. She pulled the photo from her bag and placed it on the coffee table in front of them. "Who is this boy?" she asked, her voice firm but filled with uncertainty.

Her parents' expressions shifted instantly. Her mother's smile faltered, and her father stiffened. The room felt heavier, as though the air itself had thickened with the weight of something unspoken.

Her mother glanced at the photograph, her face pale. "Kianna, where did you find this?"

"It doesn't matter where I found it," Kianna replied, her tone sharper than she intended. "Who is he? Why don't I remember him?"

Her father leaned forward, his face shadowed with something like discomfort. "Kianna, we don't know who that boy is. It's from when you were very young. You probably had a lot of friends or playmates that you don't remember now."

Kianna shook her head. "No. This feels different. I know him. I feel like I should remember, but I can't. Why?"

Her parents exchanged a quick, uneasy glance, and her mother sighed deeply. "Sometimes, when we're children, we forget people. Especially those who aren't around anymore. It's natural."

"But it's not natural for me to forget this much," Kianna pushed back, her frustration growing. "Someone called me yesterday, warning me about things I don't remember. They mentioned this boy, and it's like… it's like there's this huge gap in my memories. I can't just forget someone like that."

Her mother's face softened, but it didn't ease the tension in the room. "Sweetie, maybe you're reading too much into it. You had plenty of playmates growing up. It's possible that this boy moved away, and that's why you don't remember him."

Kianna's heart raced, her mind rejecting the explanation. It didn't sit right. "But why wouldn't you tell me about him? Why does it feel like something's missing? Like I was supposed to remember, but I was made to forget?"

Her father cleared his throat, his voice gentle but firm. "We're not hiding anything from you, Kianna. If we knew more, we'd tell you. But some things from childhood just fade with time."

Her mother nodded in agreement. "We don't know who that boy is. If he was important to you, I'm sure we would have remembered."

Kianna stared at them, her frustration boiling over. "I don't believe you," she said, her voice low and tense. "Something happened. Something you're not telling me."

Her mother's eyes shimmered with concern, but she held her ground. "We've told you everything we know. Please, Kianna, don't drive yourself crazy over this."

But Kianna couldn't shake the feeling that there was more. Her parents were hiding something, even if they refused to admit it. She stood abruptly, grabbing the photo and shoving it back into her bag.

"I need to go," she said quietly, her emotions too raw to stay any longer.

Her father stood, alarmed. "Kianna, wait—"

But she was already at the door. "I'll figure it out myself," she muttered before walking out, leaving her parents in stunned silence.

Outside, the cool air hit her face, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her. The rain had started, but Kianna didn't care. The drops mixed with her tears as she walked quickly down the driveway, her thoughts a chaotic tangle of confusion, anger, and sadness.

Her parents didn't know—or didn't want to admit—who the boy was. But Kianna knew deep down that he was important, that he was part of something bigger. The memories were there, buried, and she was determined to uncover them.

And whoever had called her

"Kianna! What a surprise," her mother said warmly, pulling her into a hug.

Kianna returned the hug, but it felt hollow. "Mom, I need to talk to you and Dad," she said, stepping inside. Her mother raised an eyebrow but led her into the living room without question.

Her father was sitting in his usual armchair, reading a newspaper. He glanced up as they entered, setting the paper aside with a curious smile. "What's going on, sweetheart?"