Alexandra Ophelia was just an ordinary kid-ordinary, what set him apart was the sickness gnawing at the edges of his mind-a condition that damaged his memories, leaving him adrift in fragments of yesterday. While other people could recall names, places, or even the exact words of a conversation without effort, Alex often found himself staring at the blank spaces in his head, waiting for something to come back. Most of the time, it didn't. Medication helped him hold on, but even then, remembering felt like trying to cup water in his hands-it always slipped through.
He lived in a town with his mother that promised more than it delivered. Years ago, Alex had imagined it would be a hidden gem, the kind of place where neighbors waved from porches and laughter floated through the streets at night. That was what the brochures had said, anyway. But the reality was different. The streets were too quiet, the houses too still. Curtains rarely parted, and if they did, it was only for a fleeting glance before vanishing again. It wasn't dangerous, not really-just suffocating in its silence, a ghost town pretending to be alive.
Alex's days blurred together. Wake up, take his pills, scribble notes so he wouldn't lose track of time, wander the hushed streets, and return to a home that always felt too big for two people. Sometimes he thought about leaving one day, but he never did. It was easier to stay where nothing happened, where even his fading memory couldn't lose track of much.
And then-just like that-everything shifted. One morning, the creak of a moving truck's wheels broke the silence. Someone new had moved into the house next door, a house that had been empty for as long as Alex could remember. He didn't know it yet, but the strangers' arrival would unravel the stillness of his world.