I carefully helped Crispin up.

He seemed not entirely drunk yet, brushing my hand away with irritation.

The consequence was that he nearly stumbled to the ground.

Seeing that he was about to collide with the edge of the table, I quickly steadied him.

After making sure he was okay, I guided him out of the bar and stumbled towards home.

Finally, when we got homeI, I turned on all the lights and settled Crispin on the sofa.

Then, as usual, I went to the kitchen to prepare hangover soup and wet a towel in the bathroom.

I crouched beside the sofa, gently wiping Crispin's face with the towel.

As I looked at his closed eyes, my fingers involuntarily brushed against the mole at the corner of his eye.

It was only in these moments that I could touch the mole that had occupied my thoughts day and night.

As I caressed it, another person’s face came to mind.

My touch grew more insistent.

Crispin flinched in pain, swatting my hand away and muttering incoherently.

Fortunately, his eyes remained shut; he was likely still unconscious.

I stood up, placed the towel back in the bathroom, and returned to the kitchen, where I checked on the hangover soup, my mind drifting away.

The first time I met Crispin was in the hospital.

That day was the darkest of my life.

My sister had died in a car accident.

She was struck by a drunk driver who fled the scene in panic.

The doctor said my sister might have had a chance to survive.

I listened in silence, my mind filled with memories of her smiling face.

I could almost hear her calling me “sister” with her laughter.

Laurel and I grew up in an orphanage. Perhaps because we were girls, even as twins, we were easily abandoned by our parents.

“Please accept my condolences.”

The doctor, witnessing my tears, was at a loss for words of comfort.

Seeing me cry on the floor, she could only sigh silently and leave.

“Are you okay?”

I turned toward the voice.

The person, upon seeing my face, seemed to withdraw their smile, revealing surprise in their eyes.

It was clear that Crispin, too, was struck by the resemblance between my face and his beloved’s.

From that day on, I frequently encountered him, though most were encounters I orchestrated.

I had discovered something while dealing with my sister’s affairs.

Her death was no accident.

Thus, my plan began to take shape in my mind.

However, without certainty, I delayed taking action.