“The Face In The Mirror “

Pain.

That was the first thing she felt. A deep, burning ache behind her eyes like someone had cracked her skull open and stuffed lightning inside.

Anne Darlene groaned, lifting a trembling hand to her head.

“My head… it hurts…”

She peeled her eyes open slowly. Her vision was a blur of gold and white. A chandelier? Walls trimmed in marble? Silken sheets?

Where was she?

She blinked hard. The ceiling above her wasn’t the peeling concrete she was used to in their small flat in Ihiala. This ceiling was high, ornate, luxurious. Too perfect.

This… wasn’t Nigeria.

The realization hit her like a blow to the chest.

She jolted upright and gasped, breath catching in her throat as she scanned the room. Everything screamed wealth. Too pristine. Too expensive. Machines beeped steadily beside her bed. A vase of fresh lilies sat beside her, like some kind of twisted apology.

“No… no no no,” she whispered, panic rising. “This isn’t… where am I? Where’s Papa? Where’s…”

A mirror on the wall caught her eye.

She staggered to her feet, wobbling like a newborn deer, and stumbled toward it.

And that’s when she saw her.

A girl. But not Anne.

The reflection showed a stranger. Long, glossy curls. A delicate nose. Hazel eyes. Lush skin, light-brown and glowing. She was beautiful. Unreal.

Anne stumbled back. “This isn’t me. This isn’t my face!”

Suddenly the door burst open.

And they flooded in.

First was a tall, elegant woman with red lips and expensive perfume, crying out as she rushed to Anne’s side. “Anna! My baby girl!”

Before Anne could move, the woman wrapped her in a tight embrace.

But that embrace? It was wrong.

The warmth was fake. The arms too stiff. And just as Anne opened her mouth to protest, she felt the woman’s breath on her ear.

“Don’t play dumb, Anna. We all know what you did. If you try this act again, I swear I’ll end it myself.”

The words hit like a slap. Anne froze, heart slamming in her chest.

What… what had she just said?

The woman pulled away with a smile so sweet it could rot teeth. “She’s awake!” she cried to the room.

Anne stumbled back, knocking into the IV stand. “I’m not Anna,” she said, voice shaking. “My name is Anne Darlene. I don’t know you.”

Then came the cousin.

Seo Yerin.

Young, flawless, terrifying. She leaned against the wall in her designer heels, arms folded, and smirked like a serpent.

“She’s lying again,” Yerin said coldly. “She always does this. First, the overdose. Now, she’s Nigerian? Next she’ll say she’s an alien.”

“I don’t know you!” Anne cried. “You’re not my cousin! I’m not your Anna!”

“Oh shut up, psycho,” Yerin hissed. “You think you can just pretend nothing happened? After all the hell you caused?”

Another boy stepped in. Ji Joe — tall, handsome, eyes sharp with fake concern.

“Maybe she needs another ‘accident,’” he said under his breath, just loud enough.

Anne’s stomach flipped. Her knees buckled.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, staring at them. “All of you. This isn’t real. I was sick. I had cancer. I was dying…”

“Delusional,” said Kim Sang-woo, the older man near the door in a tailored suit. “Just like her mother.”

“Attention-seeker,” added his brother, Kim Do-hwan.

“She should’ve stayed in the coma,” Yerin spat, walking up to Anne and leaning close. “You’re not the victim here. You’re the mistake.”

Anne’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She looked around, her chest tightening.

This wasn’t just a hospital.

This was a trap.

And no one was on her side.

Except—

“Ahn-na, stop,” a soft voice said.

A woman stepped forward. Eyes kind, voice trembling. Aunty Mary.

“Everyone, she just woke up. You can’t speak to her like this. Maybe she… maybe she’s not fully back yet.”

Anne turned to her like a lifeline. “Please… you believe me, don’t you?” she begged. “I’m not your Anna. I swear on everything I love. My name is Anne. Anne Darlene from Anambra. My mother died of cancer. I was diagnosed too. I collapsed in a forest… a light hit me—”

“You’ve gone mad,” Yerin whispered, her face pale now. “This… you’re dangerous.”

“She’s faking,” muttered Ji Joe. “Classic Anna move. Cry, lie, manipulate.”

Anne gasped for air. Her lungs felt like they were filling with fire. Her body was trembling.

Another woman stepped forward — tall, graceful, with deep brown eyes. Mrs. Jung Hye-Ri, her father’s twin.

“She’s scared,” Hye-Ri murmured, brushing Anne’s hair back. “Look at her. She’s terrified.”

But then—

He entered.

Kim Seokjin.

Tall. Silver-haired. Untouchable. The air in the room shifted the moment he walked in. All mocking ceased. Even Yerin stepped back.

“Anna,” he said, voice as deep as thunder and soft as snowfall. “My granddaughter… welcome back.”

Anne stared. Her heart pounded in terror.

“Grand… what?” she breathed. “No. No, no. You’ve got the wrong person. I’m not—”

He reached forward to touch her hand.

She recoiled. “Don’t touch me! I’m not Kim Anna! I don’t know you! I don’t know ANY of you!”

Silence.

Every eye in the room turned to her like she’d just grown horns.

“She’s unwell,” Seokjin said at last, turning to Dr. Min Jae-hyun, the doctor standing in the corner.

The man’s face looked like glass cracking — a kind face, filled with worry. The only one who hadn’t spoken.

“She’s lying,” Yerin said again. “Lock her up before she does what she did last time.”

“Last time?” Anne whispered.

“What did I do…?”

“Go back to your act, Anna,” Ji Joe said, voice low, venomous. “But just know… if you think you can run away again, next time, you won’t wake up.”

Anne gasped.

And then everything went still.

Dr. Jae-hyun stepped forward, quietly. He handed her a mirror.

Anne looked.

And saw the girl again.

Not Anne. Not the poor Nigerian girl who watched K-dramas with stars in her eyes and coughs in her throat.

This was a doll.

Expensive. Empty. Beautiful. Fake.

Her knees hit the floor.

She didn’t scream this time.

She just whispered.

“… I’m trapped “

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