Did I steal someone'slife?
That was the first thought — not a scream, not a cry. Just a quiet flicker of awareness, buried deep behind her newborn eyes. A feeling before thought. A question without shape.
The world around her was loud. Too bright. Too cold. Voices rang out, fast and urgent, in a language she somehow recognized but had never spoken. A pair of strong hands lifted her, wrapped her in warmth. The air smelled of disinfectant, clean linen, and something floral.
She had just been born.
Again.
She remembered her old name: Anya.
A girl from Country B, a country of monsoon winds and crowded markets, of poetry in quiet notebooks and the scent of spice on her mother's shawl. Her life had been small, ordinary, unfinished. A sudden goodbye — and then nothing.
Until now.
Now she was someone else.
Somewhere else.
They called this place Country C. Her new mother whispered the name Li Anqi with tears in her eyes, pressing trembling kisses to her forehead. A father stood beside her, stiff with disbelief and joy. A life already beginning.
But Anya wasn't gone. She hadn't faded like a dream. She was here, watching everything from within this fragile, newborn skin.
Was this a second chance?
A mistake?
Or had she taken something that wasn't meant for her?
The guilt arrived before the language could. The confusion, before the questions. And the grief — the kind that lives in silence.
She closed her eyes and let the weight of it settle. The body was too small to hold all the feelings, so she slept.
And in her dreams, both names followed her.