Chapter Twenty Four - A Picture from the Past
Mira hated deadlines.
Not because she couldn't meet them—she always did, even if it meant three all-nighters and an unhealthy amount of caffeine. But because they made her brain feel like a tangled knot, pulled too tight from stress and half-finished ideas.
She sighed, stretching her arms over her head as she stared at the mess around her.
Her apartment looked exactly like her brain felt.
Scattered notebooks, crumpled sketches, an open laptop with ten different tabs blinking at her. The tiny kitchen counter was cluttered with a forgotten cup of instant ramen, an empty soda can, and a half-full glass of milk she poured an hour ago but never drank.
Her stomach rumbled.
Mira grabbed the glass, took a slow sip, and reached for the paper bag sitting on the counter.
Inside were cookies from Moonlight Crumbs.
She took a bite.
Elias really is a wizard, she thought, melting into the taste. This one was the new brown butter & sea salt cookie—a little crispy on the edges, soft in the middle, just the right balance of sweet and salty.
Her shoulders relaxed slightly.
Food was always comforting.
Maybe that's why she kept coming back to Moonlight Crumbs—because it felt like comfort.
Her eyes drifted to the corner of the apartment.
Untouched cardboard boxes sat stacked beside her bookshelf, gathering dust.
Stuff she brought over from her parents' house before moving.
She'd meant to go through it months ago, but… well. Life happened.
Mira sighed, shoving the rest of the cookie in her mouth.
"Alright," she muttered, standing up. "Let's deal with this mess."
-
Most of the boxes were boring.
Old schoolbooks, forgotten clothes, a horrifying collection of childhood diaries she refused to open.
But one box stood out.
It was smaller than the others, sealed with yellowing tape, and neatly labeled in careful handwriting.
"Memories of Mira."
Mira frowned.
She didn't remember packing this.
She didn't even recognize the handwriting.
"…Did my mom put this together?" she muttered, fingers hesitating on the lid.
Something about it felt strange.
She peeled off the tape and lifted the top.
Inside were old photographs, a few worn-out scrapbooks, and tiny trinkets she didn't recognize.
She picked up the first photo.
It was a picture of her at six or seven years old.
Her hair was shorter, tied in uneven pigtails. She was grinning up at the camera, flour smudged across her cheeks, her small hands holding a half-eaten cookie.
Mira stared.
Not at herself.
But at the people behind her.
Elias' parents.
Standing in front of Moonlight Crumbs.
Smiling like she belonged there.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the photo, heart hammering against her ribs.
She didn't remember this.
She didn't remember ever being at Moonlight Crumbs as a kid.
Mira scrambled through the box, pulling out more pictures.
Another one—she was sitting on the bakery counter, a younger Elias standing beside her, both of them reaching for the same cookie.
Another—Elias' mother laughing, ruffling her hair like she was someone familiar.
Another—Kobayashi in the background, handing out bowls of ramen to customers.
Mira felt lightheaded.
"What the hell…" she whispered.
Her hands trembled.
Her mind raced.
How? How was this possible?
She knew her own childhood.
She knew she had never met Elias before stumbling into his bakery that night.
And yet—
The photos said otherwise.
Mira needed answer.
Fast.
She grabbed her phone, pressing her mother's contact.
Ring.
Once.
Twice.
No answer.
She tried again.
Nothing.
Her stomach twisted.
Her mother always picked up.
Mira inhaled sharply, then dialed her father's number.
Straight to voicemail.
Something was wrong.
She sat frozen for a long moment, gripping her phone, staring at the photos.
Then, slowly, she opened her laptop.
If she couldn't get answers from her parents…
She'd get them somewhere else.
Her fingers moved quickly, typing into the search bar.
Moonlight Crumbs – History
Nothing recent. Just articles about how the bakery had "gone viral" after Mira's first post.
She tried again.
Moonlight Crumbs – Old articles
A few faded links popped up.
And then—
One that caught her eye.
"LOCAL BAKERY REOPENS UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT – FORMERLY OWNED BY RENOWNED SCIENTISTS"
Mira froze.
Scientists?
She clicked the article, her pulse loud in her ears.
The screen loaded, revealing a blurry black-and-white photo.
The same bakery.
The same wooden sign—but the colors were brighter, the paint still fresh.
And in front of it—
A couple.
Mira stared.
A man and a woman, standing side by side.
She didn't recognize them.
But there was something about them—something familiar in the shape of their smiles, the way they stood, the warmth in their eyes.
Who were they?
She looked at the caption below the photo.
"Dr. Laurence and Dr. Clara Greywood, founders of Moonlight Crumbs, pictured with close colleagues Dr. Roderick and Dr. Helena Solace."
Mira froze.
Her stomach dropped.
Her eyes flicked to the other couple in the photo—
And then, to the small girl standing between them.
Holding hands with Eleanor Greywood.
The girl's face was turned away.
But something about the tilt of her head, the curve of her shoulders…
It felt too familiar.
Mira scrolled down, her hands ice-cold.
Her eyes locked onto a single line of text.
"Before their tragic passing, the Greywoods worked alongside the Solaces on a secret research project—one known as 'The Memory Imprint Experiment.'"
Mira's entire body went still.
She couldn't breathe.
She couldn't think.
Her own last name stared back at her from the screen.
Dr. Helena Solace.
Her mother.