KNOX
"I wish I hadn't come back! I wish I'd just stayed away! Stay gone!"
The words hit me like physical blows. I stood there, every muscle locked tight. My mind tried to process what I was hearing while my body screamed at me to do something to make this madness stop.
Elodie was thrashing on the bed, fighting against Dr. Adams and the nurse with a strength I didn't know she possessed.
Her face was flushed, tear-stained, and completely wild.
This wasn't the composed woman I married.
This was someone else entirely.
Elodie has never kissed me. Never thanked me with anything but cool politeness. Never in two years raised her voice at me.
Not even once.
"Back then, you were a good person!" she screamed. "But now, I don't know you anymore!"
Back then?
Back when?
We barely knew each other even before the marriage. She'd always been distant, cold, and disinterested in anything about me beyond the financial security I could provide.
There was no "back then" when I'd been different to her.
"You used to care about people," she sobbed, still fighting even as the sedative seemed to begin to take effect. "You used to want to change the world, to use your degree for good. Not just building empires and making money!"
My blood turned to ice.
That entire part of my life… the idealistic years… the dreams of making a difference… I'd buried that before we even met. Before she died and took all that naive bullshit with her.
How did she know about it?
I looked at her. Her eyes flickered open one last time. Glazed, unfocused, but looking at me with an expression I hadn't seen in years.
"What happened to you, Knox? What happened to… us?"
Then her eyes closed, and she went limp against the pillows.
Silence crashed over the room like a wave.
I stood there, frozen.
Dr. Adams checked her pulse and her breathing, making sure the sedative hadn't caused any complications.
And I was just… standing there.
Why does she sound like her?
"Mr. Humphries," Dr. Adams' voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. "She's stable. The sedative will keep her under for several hours."
I nodded mechanically, moving toward the bed without thinking.
She looked peaceful now. No trace of the wild-eyed woman who'd been screaming at me moments ago.
I pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. Then I reached out, gently brushing her hair back behind her ear.
My hand froze.
I'd never touched Elodie like this. Our marriage had been professional from the very beginning, purely transactional.
But my hands…
Ever since she woke up yesterday and kissed me, my body seemed to respond to her like it responded to…
'Stop it,' I ordered myself harshly, pulling back. 'You're just seeing connections that aren't there because you want them to be there.'
To confirm, I need to know.
"Dr. Adams," I said. "Is it possible for someone to adopt a different person's personality?"
Dr. Adams looked up from his notes, adjusting his glasses.
"Well, there are documented cases of personality changes following traumatic brain injury, yes. Though usually it's a more gradual process…"
"No, not gradual. It was sudden," I gestured at Elodie's sleeping form, struggling to articulate what I was asking without sounding insane. "Like… like she's been replaced by someone else. Someone who knows things she shouldn't know, acts in ways she's never acted, says things that…"
I cut myself off.
How can I explain this without revealing that my wife was almost like my dead ex-fiancée?
Dr. Adams considered for a moment.
"You know, there's a phenomenon called 'mirroring' where someone unconsciously adopts the mannerisms, speech patterns, and behaviors of another person. Usually, it's someone significant to them. Either that person inspires them or makes them envious and miserable."
My jaw tightened.
"She'd have to know that person pretty well to mirror them accurately."
"Not necessarily. If she had access to detailed information about them - stories, descriptions, perhaps even video recordings - the unconscious mind can construct remarkably detailed simulations based on secondhand information." He paused. "Especially if she was motivated to do so. Perhaps she's trying to please a loved one by becoming more like someone he loves?"
The words hit me like a gut punch.
Elodie knew her.
I warned her, early in our arrangement, explaining why I'd never give my affection the way she deserved.
That already belongs to someone else.
And it will always belong to her.
Had Elodie somehow… researched about her? Then she tried to become her in some twisted way of earning my affection?
The thought made me sick.
But it made more sense than believing that she's her.
It is impossible.
"That's probably it," I said, more to convince myself than anything. "She's trying to be someone she's not. Someone she thinks I want."
"It's not uncommon in marriages where one party feels they need to change to maintain the relationship," Dr. Adams said carefully. "The sudden onset is unusual. Maybe it's because of the new medicine that she's getting. It might have lowered her inhibitions, making her act on impulses she'd normally suppress."
I nodded, latching onto the rational explanation like a lifeline. "Right. Brain chemistry changes. Personality alterations. All perfectly medical and explainable."
"Exactly," Dr. Adams began packing up his equipment. "I'd recommend a full neurological workup when she wakes. MRI, cognitive testing, the works."
"Do it," I said.
I need answers.
"Did you need anything else, Mr. Humphries?"
"No, thank you, Dr. Adams," I straightened my shoulders, rebuilding the armor I'd let slip during Elodie's breakdown. "Keep this between us. My wife's medical issues are private."
"Of course. Doctor-patient confidentiality." He paused. "Though I do think she'd benefit from psychiatric evaluation as well as neurological…"
"I'll consider it."
Translation: No. I wasn't letting anyone else into this mess until I understood it myself.