32

MEDICAL RECORDS

Evan swallowed hard, then lifted his face toward the medical records officer.

"Can I have a copy?" His voice sounded calmer than he felt.

The officer raised an eyebrow, then nodded. "Of course, Mr. Nathaniel. Please wait a moment."

Evan watched as the officer retrieved his folder, walked to the photocopier in the corner of the room, and began copying each page. The hum of the machine only made his mind feel more crowded.

If I had an accident in December 2015, then in this version of my life, I never went to that party. I never saw Hendra fall... I was never cursed.

But that made no sense. I know I was cursed. I know my life keeps repeating at age 25.

The officer returned with a set of copies, tidied them up, and handed them to Evan. "Here are the documents, Mr. Nathaniel. Please sign here for the hospital's records."

Evan took the pen and signed without thinking. His hand was slightly sweaty as he accepted the papers.

"The accident... was it serious?" he asked quietly, half-hoping the officer had an answer that could make sense of everything.

The officer shrugged. "Not really. Minor injuries, and you experienced confusion for a few days after regaining consciousness. Seems you had partial amnesia, but the doctor said memory could return with time."

Evan nodded slowly. Amnesia?

If he really had amnesia, then why were the memories of that party still crystal clear in his head?

He folded the papers and tucked them into his jacket.

"Would you like to consult with the doctor who handled your case?"

Evan quickly shook his head. "No need. Thank you."

He turned and walked out of the hospital briskly. The deeper he dug, the less sense everything made.

MEDICAL RECORD ENVELOPE

The large brown envelope lay on the car seat, slightly crumpled from Evan repeatedly squeezing it since leaving the hospital. His name and birthdate were clearly printed on the medical records inside.

Nathaniel Evan. Born: January 1, 1992.

Evan leaned back in the driver's seat, staring blankly through the windshield. His left hand clenched over the envelope, while his right hand still held the copied documents.

Accident, December 2015. Minor head injury. Partial short-term memory loss.

That was impossible. He remembered December 2015 clearly—the victory party, Hendra's breakdown, and the curse cast upon him that night. There was no accident. But in this world, in his medical records, it happened.

This curse... had truly scrambled his life.

Evan exhaled heavily, trying to calm his racing heart. He placed the documents back into the envelope, then grabbed a pen from the car dashboard. With slightly trembling hands, he wrote on the front of the envelope:

To: Ayla

Fr: Nathaniel Evan

He paused for a moment. Then, he opened the dashboard drawer and took out a small red stamp. He pressed it firmly at the top of the envelope.

CONFIDENTIAL

The word now stood out clearly on the paper surface. This wasn't just any document. This was evidence. This was a question. This was a message he wanted to send to Ayla—that he needed to know, that he needed answers.

And Ayla needed to see it.

OFFICE FRONT DESK

Evan stood at the reception desk, still holding the large brown envelope. The office buzzed with activity—employees walked back and forth, phones rang occasionally, and the soft sound of keyboard typing filled the background.

A female receptionist turned to him with a professional smile. "Good afternoon, may I help you?"

Evan placed the envelope on the desk. "I'd like to leave this for Ayla."

The receptionist took the envelope, reading the writing on its surface. She hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Would you like me to hand it to her personally?"

Evan gave a short nod. "Yes. It's important."

The receptionist looked like she was about to ask something else, but Evan had already turned around. He didn't wait for confirmation. He didn't care how Ayla would react when she received it.

He walked out of the office quickly, pushing down the anxiety beginning to rise in his chest.

He had planted the question. Now, he just had to wait for the answer.

AYLA'S OFFICE – DIGGING UP THE PAST

A knock at the door pulled Ayla's attention away from her laptop screen. An administrative staff member walked in carrying a fairly thick brown envelope.

"Ms. Ayla, this was left for you. From someone named Nathaniel Evan," he said, placing the envelope on her desk.

Ayla's hands froze on the keyboard. She straightened her back, staring at the envelope with a blank expression.

"Who dropped it off?" she asked, her voice steady.

"He left right after handing it to the front office."

Ayla nodded, waiting for the staff to leave before pulling the envelope closer.

The sender's name was clearly written: Nathaniel Evan.

Not a stranger.

Not a name she wanted to see again.

Her hands trembled slightly as she tore open the top of the envelope. Several neatly folded papers were inside. As she pulled them out and saw the hospital's letterhead, her heart started to race.

"Medical Record - Nathaniel Evan"

Her brow furrowed deeply. This… wasn't what she expected. She quickly read through the first page.

Date: December 22, 2015

Diagnosis: Minor head trauma, suspected partial amnesia

Patient's condition stable. Experiencing difficulty recalling certain events before the accident. No signs of severe trauma, but further evaluation recommended if memory loss persists.

Ayla covered her mouth with one hand.

Her eyes scanned the report again from the beginning, making sure she hadn't misread it.

Amnesia?

So… he really forgot?

Ayla's mind went into chaos. The anger she had held onto for so long began to waver. She had always believed Evan abandoned her knowingly. That he chose to leave. That he didn't care.

But if he really lost his memory…

Ayla clenched the paper a little tighter. No, this wasn't an excuse. It wasn't something that could erase the pain she had gone through.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions.

But one thing was certain.

Evan had just dug up a past she thought was buried.

And Ayla wasn't sure she was ready to face it.

AYLA'S CONFUSION – FACING THE TRUTH

Ayla still sat frozen in her chair, staring at the medical record in her hands with a blank gaze. Her left hand slowly rubbed her temple, trying to process what she had just read.

Amnesia.

Evan lost part of his memory after that accident.

So… did that mean he truly didn't remember anything before December 2015? Didn't remember her? Didn't remember what he did?

Ayla bit her lip. A part of her wanted to deny it. Impossible. But the medical record said otherwise.

Her office phone suddenly rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen before sighing and picking it up.

"Hello?"

"Ayla, the client from the headquarters renovation project wants to move the meeting up to Thursday. Is that okay?" her assistant asked on the other end.

Ayla closed her eyes briefly, trying to refocus.

"Yes, that's fine. Please adjust the schedule."

"Will do. Oh, and a new delivery came. I left it on your desk."

"Thanks."

Once the call ended, Ayla looked at the document in front of her again. She let out a long sigh before putting the papers back into the envelope.

This wasn't the time to get emotional. She had to stay rational.

But one thing she couldn't ignore…

If Evan had truly forgotten everything, why was he sending this to her now?

What was he trying to find?

Ayla reached for her phone and searched for Evan's contact. Her fingers hesitated above the screen before she exhaled and typed a message.

Ayla: I've received your envelope.

Ayla: What do you want, Evan?

Sent.

It didn't take long for the message to be read. But no reply came.

Ayla waited, her heart beating faster than usual.

If Evan really wanted to reopen this past, then she had to be ready to face all of it.

But the question was… Was he ready?

AYLA'S WORRY – RAKA'S FEVER

Ayla's phone suddenly vibrated on her desk. The name Mbak Sari—Raka's nanny—appeared on the screen.

Ayla's heart sank. Mbak Sari rarely called unless it was important. She quickly picked up.

"Hello, Mbak Sari? What's wrong?"

A worried voice replied, "Bu Ayla, Raka has a fever. It's been getting worse since this afternoon. I already gave him medicine, but he still looks weak."

Ayla stood up instantly, pressing the envelope against the desk. Raka is sick.

"What's his temperature now?" she asked quickly, already gathering her things.

"Last time I checked, it was almost 39 degrees, Ma'am. He's been lying down and refuses to eat."

"Oh no... Okay, I'm coming home now."

Without hesitation, Ayla grabbed her bag and the large envelope. She left her office quickly, nodding briefly to her assistant.

"Tasya, I have to go. My son's sick. Please handle everything for now."

"Of course, Ma'am. Hope he gets better soon."

Ayla just nodded and rushed to the parking lot. Once in her car, she started the engine and drove as fast as she could home.

In her head, all the worst-case scenarios spun around. Raka rarely gets sick, but when he has a high fever like this…

She bit her lip, trying to calm herself. No, don't panic yet. Just get home and check on him first.

But deep down, Ayla knew one thing—no matter how prepared she was, she could never be calm when it came to Raka.