The air grew still, and I found myself frozen on the couch, my fingers tensing momentarily. “What?”
I thought I must have heard wrong.
But can memories be mistaken, too?
I remember during my senior year of high school, already overwhelmed by academic pressure, I’d fall
asleep the moment I got into the car.
In my memory, Dad drove for what seemed like an eternity. I couldn’t recall where we were headed,
only that I was in the car, lying across my mom’sp, sleeping soundly.
“Turn the music down, Phoebe’s asleep,” my mom whispered, chastising Dad in a gentle
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murmur.
“Ethan Langley and I are meeting at Prosperity Heights Bridge before heading over together.” Dad
replied.
I couldn’t remember exactly what Dad said next, only that I felt a rush of excitement–someone was
waiting for us.
“Is that Ethan’s car?” asked Mom.
“The orphanage has raised two prodigies; the high–ups are paying close attention. This event is a
perfect chance to make some noise, get more people involved in charity, and bring greater attention to
the plight of children left behind in orphanages…”
“Boom!”
The moment Dad pulled the car over, a deafening crash engulfed us.
A violent force nearly hurled me from my seat.
“Phoebe…”
Thest thing I remember was Mom’s tight embrace, sheltering me in her arms. Her blood mingling
with mine.
“Phoebe…”
“Survive…”
“Phoebe… Phoebe!”
After that, my memory is nk. The crash left me dazed; time seemed to stand still, and I couldn’t tell
how long it had been.
All I remember is waking up to Dexter by my side, with him calling out my name over and over.
And I vaguely recall the silhouette of someone–someone who dashed into the mes,
09:35
fearlessly entering the car to save my parents.
And then, slowly, that silhouette merged with Dexter in my mind.
Could it be that my memories deceive me?
“That day was the award ceremony for the Double–Genius Welfare House, aing–of–age
celebration for the kids. I was supposed to meet Phoebe’s parents there. We saw the ident on the
bridge. It was Phoebe’s parents… and the eldest Langley child, Ethan. It was a horrific crash: a dump
truck going the wrong way, a semi overloaded in the rear. Ethan’s family died on the spot. A teenager
ran into the fire to save Phoebe, they said.”
Hailey spoke softly, her voice breaking. “But when Phoebe woke up, she couldn’t remember who saved
her. She thought it was Dexter, and I wanted to tell her the truth, but Dexter admitted to it. I was
shocked, but I didn’t interfere too much with the kids‘ affairs. ver imagined… it would hurt Phoebe.”
I sat, stunned and rigid, as Hailey continued, my head pounding as if it were about to split open. It turns
out memories can indeed be deceiving.
Especially under great trauma, the brain can fabricate false memories from the moments before
unconsciousness.
I had always thought Dexter saved me, and I believed it without a doubt.
Because when I asked Dexter, he confirmed it.
“Dexter has always been starved of love because of his rtionship with his father. He doesn’t know
how to love someone; he only knows possession,” Hailey wiped away tears. “He’s fond of Phoebe,
even if he doesn’t say it. I can tell. Phoebe’s mom and I were close friends, and we had arranged a
marriage for our children to be formalized when they were older.
Dexter is rebellious and has his own way of doing things. If he didn’t like Phoebe, he would have
rejected the arrangement long ago. But he didn’t, and that’s how I knew he cared for her. But he’s so
stubborn–he clearly has feelings for her, yet he refuses to admit it…”
“Hailey, the Dexter you know and the Dexter I’ve heard about from Phoebe seem like two very different
people,” I interrupted, struggling to believe that Dexter could truly love.
“Love isn’t about possession or causing pain. All Dexter has brought Phoebe is hurt,” I shook my head
and spoke again. “No matter his reasons, he’s lied to Phoebe and caused her endless suffering.”