A woman rushed into the alley, her tan coat moving like a storm breaking the sunlight. Her hand grabbed the girl instantly, pulling her back.
“Mom!” the girl shouted. “He’s hungry!”
But the woman wasn’t looking at her daughter anymore.She was staring at the boy.
The boy lifted his head.
And the world stopped.
The woman’s breath caught.
Her face went pale, like the color had been stolen from it.
“No…” she whispered.
The boy frowned, confused.
The woman stepped forward slowly, shaking.
Her eyes locked onto his.
Then to a small scar under his eyebrow.
Her handbag slipped from her fingers and hit the ground with a dull sound.
Her voice broke completely.
“…No, it can’t be you.”
The boy swallowed.
“Do I… know you?”
The woman dropped to her knees.
Tears filled her eyes instantly.
She reached toward him, hands trembling like she was afraid he might disappear if she touched him.
“My baby…” she cried.
The boy froze.
The word didn’t feel real.
He had never been anyone’s baby.
She touched his face gently, like proving he was real.
“I lost you years ago,” she whispered. “I never stopped looking.”
The boy’s lips parted.
Something inside him cracked—memories, blurred and distant, like a dream he could almost remember.
“Mom…?” he said again, quieter this time.
The woman pulled him closer, sobbing.
“I finally found you…”
The girl stood frozen behind her, watching everything change in a single breath.
Then—
The boy suddenly pulled back slightly, confused, terrified.
“…Then why don’t I remember you?”
The woman stopped crying.
Her face shifted.
Fear replaced relief.
Because she realized—
He wasn’t finished remembering.
