A Stranger in the Mirror

Anna's consciousness stirred. Her body felt impossibly heavy, her throat unbearably dry. She tried to shift, to push herself up, but even the smallest movement sent a dull ache through her limbs.

Her eyelids fluttered open. Blinding light. Too bright. She squeezed them shut again, her breath shallow.

"You're awake."

A man's voice—unfamiliar, yet filled with relief.

Anna forced her eyes open again, blinking rapidly as her vision adjusted. A man stood at her bedside, smiling at her with warmth she didn't recognize.

Who…?

She tried to speak, but the sound that escaped was wrong.

"Who…" Her throat burned, and she swallowed. "Are you?"

The man's smile faltered, his brows knitting together in confusion.

"Shane…?" His voice wavered. "It's me, Mr. Jing."

Shane?

That wasn't her name.

Before Anna could process anything, the man—Mr. Jing?—straightened. "Okay. Don't move. I'll call the doctor." Then he rushed out, leaving her alone.

Anna's pulse pounded in her ears. Something felt off.

She took in her surroundings. This wasn't home.

The walls were pristine, the air carried the faint scent of flowers—fresh, expensive ones. Sunlight streamed in through sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the polished floors.

She was in a hospital.

Her gaze darted around the room, landing on bouquets of tulips and delicate white flowers she couldn't name. In her world, flowers weren't a luxury she could afford to know.

Slowly, hesitantly, she raised her hand—but what she saw wasn't her hand.

The skin was pale, smooth, untouched by the sun. Her fingers were delicate, thin, like they hadn't known a day of hard labor.

Her breath caught in her throat. This wasn't her body.

"What is happening?" she whispered, then froze.

The voice. It wasn't hers.

Anna struggled to her feet, her body protesting with every movement. Wires tugged against her skin, the IV stung as she yanked it free. But panic clawed at her chest, drowning out the pain.

Her legs trembled as she staggered toward the bathroom, gripping the sink for support.

And then, she looked up.

A stranger stared back.

Pale skin. Long, dark hair. Sunken eyes.

She knew this face.

The girl from the hospital garden.

Shane.

Anna stumbled backward, her heart hammering wildly. No. No. This isn't possible.

"What the hell is happening?" she gasped, her voice rising in panic.

A hurried knock on the door. "Shane?"

It was Mr. Jing again.

She turned toward the door, the realization hitting her like ice down her spine.

They weren't calling her Anna.

They were calling her Shane.

And she had no idea why.

-

Mr. Jing's firm but gentle grip guided her back to the bed. Anna barely registered the movement—her mind was still spinning, struggling to grasp the impossible reality unfolding around her.

By the time she sat down, three doctors and five nurses had gathered around her. She had never been the center of such overwhelming attention in her life.

Growing up, hospital visits were a luxury. She was used to overworked doctors rushing through checkups, barely glancing at her before moving on to the next patient. But here—here, they treated her like she was something fragile, something valuable.

Because she wasn't Anna Lopez anymore. She was Shane Tiu.

Her heart pounded wildly, her chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths.

One of the doctors frowned, glancing at the beeping heart monitor beside her.

"Shane, I need you to breathe in and out for me. Slowly." His voice was calm, but his eyes held concern.

Shane.

The name still felt foreign.

Anna clenched her fists. Her first instinct was to say, That's not my name. I'm Anna. You've got it all wrong. But the words caught in her throat.

If she told them the truth, would they even believe her?

Would they think she was insane?

Swallowing the rising panic, she forced herself to nod.

Inhale. Exhale. Slowly.

She focused on the rhythm of her breathing, following the doctor's instructions until the erratic beeping of the monitor steadied.

"Do you feel better?" the doctor asked, watching her closely.

Anna hesitated before nodding again. No. Nothing about this is okay. But she couldn't say that.

The doctor, however, wasn't done with his questions.

"Can you tell me today's date?"

Her stomach twisted.

Yesterday—it had been February 27 when she went to the hospital. She had come in for a check-up, barely scraping together enough money for it. Then she had met a girl in the hospital garden.

Shane.

The girl who had smiled despite having cancer.

Anna's throat felt dry. If I'm in her body… does that mean I have cancer too?

"February…" Her voice wavered. "February 28?"

The doctor gave a small nod of acknowledgment, but he didn't confirm if she was correct.

Anna swallowed hard. Something is really, really wrong.

Then came the next question—the one that made her entire body stiffen.

"Do you remember your name?"

Anna.

She almost said it. The name sat at the tip of her tongue, begging to be spoken. But her instincts screamed at her to stop.

If she said Anna, what would they do? Would they think she had brain damage? That she was delusional?

She had no proof of who she really was.

So she bit down the truth, forcing herself to say, "Shane."

The name felt strange in her mouth, but it came out naturally, like her tongue already knew how to shape it.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Mr. Jing let out a long breath, relief washing over his face.

The doctor studied her for a moment, then continued.

"Do you know why you're here?"

Anna hesitated.

She didn't know what had happened to Shane before this. Had she collapsed? Had her condition worsened?

All she knew was that Shane had cancer.

"...Cancer?" she answered cautiously.

The doctor gave a small nod, his face unreadable. Then he turned to Mr. Jing.

"She seems stable, Mr. Jing, but we'll need to run some tests to be sure."

Mr. Jing nodded. "Of course, Doctor. Do whatever is necessary."

One of the nurses stepped forward, adjusting the IV drip beside her. "We'll be back shortly for your laboratory tests, Miss Shane Tiu."

Miss Shane Tiu.

Anna felt those words press against her like a weight she couldn't shake.

She was in someone else's body.

Someone else's life.

And she had no idea how to escape it.