"If this is a dream, would it be okay to do this?"

My hair pricked up at the skin contact. I usually detested being touched, but something about this made me... feel things.

Right before anything could happen, we were interrupted. Ansel came in and announced proudly, oblivious. "Ma'am, I finally found a copy of the files you were looking for —"

He stopped short the moment he realized the position we were in. Ansel quickly mumbled an excuse before dashing out as quickly as he came in.

The moment passed and Nick breathed out deeply. It made me realize that he was holding his breath. He chuckled next.

"Horrible timing, huh? I have to... talk to Ansel about that."

I wasn't going to fall for his tricks. Even if Ansel hadn't been there, Nick wouldn't have done anything.

He would have been waiting to see if I'd make the first move...

If I didn't, he would have asserted that I wasn't sane at all.

If I did, he would have broken my heart.

I crossed my arms. "Talk, huh? Is that lingo for getting rid of him?" I joked.

Nick raised an eyebrow. "That would be horribly unprofessional."

In all seriousness now, he sat back down onto the bed. "So, you've seen my files, huh?" He took them out of my hand and I relented.

Nick frowned the moment he saw the scans. All his earlier cockiness had been washed away. I could tell how much effect it had on him -- it pained him because he always thought it meant something was very wrong with him. I wished he hadn't thought of it that way, because it was beginning to pain me to hear that too.

It made me coax him gently, "If you're trying to run away from it, I think you should stop. It's hard, but sometimes we need to accept the cold, hard facts."

Or maybe I just had another motive. Accepting his condition would be a precursor to me being able to exit his life. If he wasn't so upset anymore, I could finally cut ties with him cleanly and vanish. Then my mission would have been accomplished.

But did I want that, really?

"I don't remember you ever being so wise." Nick said, flipping through the documents. "And you seem to know plenty about my condition."

"It was one of the rare times I got worried." I sat beside him. "I had to do my research."

"You sounded very intellectual when you did that. I like that side of you."

"What?"

He replied with more sadness than I expected. "If you weren't constantly throwing yourself at other guys, and we had more concrete conversations — like we've been having lately—, then we have gotten along even more, Zara."

So it wasn't Nick who had cheated. Why did that make me feel more aggrieved instead?

"Forget that I said that. You should go." He closed his files and looked away.

"No, don't take that back." I suddenly felt an urge to reach for his hand.

He gave a sad smile. "No, seriously, you should go. I have a meeting in eight minutes."

He was as exact as Cleo was. Somehow, that nearly cracked me up. "Whatever. Still, I can't believe you tried that little tactic earlier..." Heat was this close to rushing up to my face when I thought of how close he was.

"Not like you fell for that anyway." He ruffled my hair gently and grinned. "You're a tough nut to crack. What sane person wouldn't—?"

I hit him. He laughed and caught my hand expertly. However, the second he did, his brows furrowed. He was staring, perplexed by something.

"What?" I asked defensively.

"N—nothing." He replied. His expression was impossible to read.

Then, on second thought, he reached for the hem of my shirt. I held my breath as he brushed up close. What was it? His eyes met mine, and in a way he was asking something --

I should have pushed him away. But I was transfixed on him, distracted. Surprisingly, I relented, allowing him space to pull my shirt back slightly, revealing my collarbone.

Oh. That's what that was for. I breathed hard. I already knew what he was going to say.

There was no way in hell Zara had that rare red webbed scar I sported across my collarbone. That mark was on me since the day I was born.

His eyes were distant. Then, he realized I needed my space and let go, looking away.

"Just that, I could have sworn you didn't have this scar before..."

***

Great. Just great.

Allow me to count the number of times he's caught me red-handed. I had that weird scar, I oddly recited medical terms, I was allergic to shellfish — there were so many red flags out there.

It was only a matter of time until he realized I wasn't the real Zara Abigail.

In order to clear my head, I went out for a run, and stopped by at my school's laboratory on the way. Professor Xander handed me the samples for my thesis report.

I decided to ask him what was bugging me as of late. "By the way Professor, do you happen to know much about the inability to recognize faces, prosopagnosia?" I asked curiously while extracting the files.

He frowned, scrunching up his face. "It's a rare condition, so there isn't many findings on it. I don't know much; all I know is there is no full treatment now. Why? Do you know someone who has facial blindness?"

"Yeah..." I said. "I was thinking, maybe I could take it up as my research project instead."

"I know you study cognitive functions, but it's quite a huge jump from analyzing the functions of the hypothalamus. But if you have a personal motivation to study prosopagnosia... I'll encourage you to go ahead. That incentive to find the cure could propel you to research it extensively."

I think I found my incentive.

I beamed. "I thought so too."

"You know who has prosopagnosia? I heard that Nicholas Sheldon has it." Someone else entered. I looked up and saw Yuri strolling in, wearing his lab coat.

He, his sister, and I were childhood best friends. Yuri and I constantly engaged in friendly competition for top of the class, but I appreciated him a lot. We were even closer back in the days, practically inseparable.

The fact that he was working in the lab over the holidays made me a tad nervous. Not that I was intimidated, but maybe I shouldn't be playing around with the Sheldons, and should have just focused on work that was fitting for me instead.

"Who?" I pretended.

"Seriously? You worked there before. The heir of Hestia Medical, our dream place to work at?"

For some reason, I saw a deceptive smile crawl over his face at the last part. I knew Yuri well, so I could pick that up, but I couldn't identify what that had meant.

"Oh. That rumor. I chanced upon the case when researching. Hasn't it been proven false already? He could recognize everyone during the shareholders meeting, and he acted pretty normally."

"Too normal, don't you think?" Yuri leaned against the table and kicked his legs up. That sort of move was the sort of stupid thing that made girls swoon over him. Yuri was a pretty boy who had plenty of charms, and could also attract a crowd easily with his genius.

He continued, "I thought Hestia would crack down on the culprit after the attacks. But they've laid low ever since. At first I thought that maybe it was because they were guilty of the attacks, but now I think it's because they want to conceal his condition lest the shareholders vote against his future ascension as CEO. He could recognize people from the seats they sat at, and maybe some other signs like people's gait or their skin color, rather than faces. There's something off about him, to prove my hypothesis."

I tried to be nonchalant. "You're basing this on your gut feeling? Real smooth, Yuri."

"You'll know what I mean when you see him too."

Hold up, so Yuri didn't just see him on TV only? He saw Nick in real life too?

And what did he mean when he said, "when I see him too"?

"Huh?"

"Haven't you heard? Oh right, it was because you were too busy playing around over the summer and not slugging it out in the labs." He chided me with a sigh.

"Just get to the point." I scowled.

"Harvard Business is sending their top students to our university over the summer for an exchange. The student assigned to our faculty next week is going to study how medicine and business can intertwine to create a major company. And what better candidate would there be, than Nicholas Sheldon himself, the heir of Hestia Medical? I'm going to be hosting him next week."

I gawked. This time, I was screwed.

I had to put an end of this before he actually exposes me.

The longer I stuck around, the longer I was playing with fire.