One mention of "Emma", and I'm doomed.

"I need to use the restroom." I got up instantly, clumsily knocking onto the table and stubbing my toe. I winced, trying to hide the pain that shot
up. I highly doubted I was being very refined, like Zara would have been.

Nick rose a little too. "Are you okay?"

"What? I—" I glanced back at Gabrielle, who was thoughtfully seated two tables away. She hadn't noticed me yet, but it was only a matter of time. "I need to use the restroom," I repeated.

Once I made my getaway, I dialed Cleo quickly. It was one of the moments when I whispered, pick up, pick up...

"Relax. I'm walking in right now." She said right away.

"Thank god." I heaved a sigh of relief, leaning against the door of my bathroom stall. "Just drag him away with you. My cover is about to be blown."

"Don't need to tell me twice, hun." With that, Cleo hung up.

I waited for a solid ten minutes before I exited again. I stood over the sink, staring at my reflection.

Why was this so hard to do?

I mean, I thought it was just an acting job.

However, it seemed more than that, and I couldn't decipher why.

And if my cover had been blown today, how Nicholas would have felt if he found out that I had been lying this whole time round?

Imagine losing your ability to recognize faces. And you have no choice but to trust others to tell you who each person is. But if they betray that trust like that...

I don't think he could trust anyone easily, ever again.

Moreover, his condition was not something we should have been toying with. Imagine the hurt he'd feel if he found out what we had done...

I gripped my hands on the edge of the sink as I recalled the little things I was starting to pick up. Nicholas's hands would tremble ever so slightly as others walked by. He kept his head lower than usual so he wouldn't have to see eye to eye, even though I knew he was the sort to hold his head up high. And he always looked so confused, so unsure, so lost.

"What cover is about to be blown?" Came a familiar voice from around the corner. Gabrielle stalked to the sink beside mine, wearing a smirk, as if she was observing her prey.

"Seriously? You waited that long for me just to say that?" I spun around. I knew she would be more than happy to unravel something that could be used as a hold over me. Luckily, I doubted that would ever be the case.

She gave me a once-over, then raised one tattooed eyebrow. "Nice dress. Didn't think it would be in your capacity to buy something like that, or come to this restaurant, even."

"Yes, I know my dress is cute. Wish I could say the same to yours." I chewed the bottom of my lip mockingly.

Gabrielle chuckled. "Ah, senorita. I'll find out the real reason why you're here. I have been in and out of this restaurant plenty of times to know that you don't belong here. You're just not of the right class."

I was already on my way out of the door, mid-speech.

"You bought your way into the school. You don't get to judge."

***

The moment I reached the penthouse, I plopped onto the couch.

I hadn't had much time to sort my stuff out properly yet, and appreciate how luxurious the place was. I wanted to indulge in it fully, but at the same time, a part of it felt foreign.

I couldn't help but remember it wasn't exactly mine.

As if a testament to the point, the swivel chair turned around to reveal Cleo. I jumped for a second.

"Seriously? I mean, I guessed you would have the passcode to the main door wired, but I thought you'd be kind enough to offer privacy..."

"Privacy wasn't part of the deal."

I sighed, "You must have come here because you thought my resolve was wavering. You're right."

"Not as easy as you thought, huh?"

"He was shaking the entire time. I didn't want to betray the little trust he had in everything. It felt like his world was resting on my shoulders."

I thought Cleo would scoff it away. Surprisingly, she stayed quiet. She empathized. "I felt that way before you got here. I was so relieved when you came around."

"Passed the burden to me, huh?"

She was unexpectedly gentle. "Prosopagnosia is a scary thing. I don't think we can be able to fathom it. Being unable to identify your loved ones, even yourself, that's unnerving to its core. It's innate to need an identity, and when you have a condition like that, you'd feel that you've lost it entirely."

I nodded grimly. "Did he... have a hard time coping?"

"Yes." Her breathing was shaky. "At first, he was in denial. He smashed things and yelled for the doctors to get a cure. What was scarier was the understanding, when he finally realized it was here to stay. All day he would stare into space, and refuse to look at people. And trust me, I know Nicholas. The real Nick was hyperactive and annoying as hell. Now, he's just a ghost of who he used to be."

Cleo tapped away at her tablet and something popped up on my widescreen panel TV. It was a live stream of what Nicholas was doing.

He was sitting at the corner of the end, staring into thin air. He sat for a very long time, until a housekeeper came.

I could see him try to look at the housekeeper. The second they met eyes, his face gave way to that lost look again.

It didn't feel very becoming of the kind of person he usually portrayed himself to be, in front of others.

Cleo coughed, tapping again to halt the projection. "So, how's he been so far? Obnoxious?"

"Kind of annoying." I huffed, trying to shake the sympathy out of my system.

Hey, people deal with bad times often. Nick just had to suck it up and cope with the trauma.

Cleo laughed. "He'd be much worse if he didn't have the condition. I actually miss that. The constant bickering we'd have day in and day out. I'd trade anything else for it."

In that second, I saw Cleo's facade crumble too. Clearly she cared a lot for Nick.

"I know this means a lot to you. This task is in good hands, then." I beamed confidently.

"I hope so. Because I have a piece of bad news."

My eyes widened. Could I really take anymore? I mean, that dinner date was such a disaster. Not only was I coerced to eat something I was allergic to, I met someone I knew. I was this close to losing my shit.

Without a warning, Cleo gave the blow anyway. "Zara is in the country right now."

"What? What do we do now?"

"At first, she didn't want to see Nick again. But after we revealed the condition to her, we managed to convince her to at least look at him. She was with me when we picked Nick up from the restaurant and threw him back into the hospital."

I sat on the edge of my seat. "And then?"

"He didn't recognize her at all. He thought she was the new CFO, because we did say a new one was coming on board."

I could already guess Cleo's next words. "Wait. So in spite of the actual Zara coming back, you still want me to act as her?" A part of me was relieved. I had yet to maximize the luxuries that were mine for the duration that I kept this job.

"Zara made it clear she didn't want anything to do with Nick, anyway. Especially not a prosopagnosia patient, she specifically said."

I winced. What did Nick see in her, anyway? If you had asked me a week ago, I might have said "birds of a feather flock together". But now I knew he wasn't that bad, definitely not as mean as to say that to someone who was sick.

"So back to Zara it is." I laughed nervously, fiddling with the edge of my dress. "I just have this bad feeling that the real Zara is going to expose me."

The moment I said that, I stopped short. Why was I so worried about getting exposed? It wasn't about losing the money and all, but I was so afraid of letting Nicholas down.

Why was I so concerned about that?

I'm not actually falling for his trap, right? That tactic that I'm sure he uses to charm a bunch of other girls; I had thought of myself as immune to it...

I didn't even know anymore.

In my mind, I reminded myself that it shouldn't be my personal mission to help Nicholas.

It should be just business.