Lena sat on the floor of her bedroom, surrounded by files, notes, and photos. Jay was out for a walk, or so he said. But after everything she'd learned, even his smallest actions felt like pieces of a puzzle she no longer trusted.
She picked up the photo again Jay and his "mirror." Same eyes. Same smile. But the man next to him had a faint scar above his right brow.
Jay didn't.
Her heart skipped. That scar had been in her memories. She remembered Jay nicking himself on a fence the day he proposed.
So which Jay was with her now?
She searched the photo folders again, flipping through her digital backups. Then she found something she had forgotten she saved a short video.
It was from the night of the accident.
Someone had filmed the crash from a boat nearby, unaware their camera had caught more than waves and headlights.
She pressed play.
The car sped toward the cliff.
Screamed brakes.
But just before impact, a figure leaped out the passenger side.
She paused. Zoomed in.
A man. Standing. Watching the car fall.
Then walking away.
She gasped. "One of them survived. But… which one?"
The door creaked open behind her. She turned quickly.
Jay stood there, eyes shadowed by the hallway light. "You found something," he said quietly.
Lena hesitated. "Who was driving that night?"
Jay's jaw tightened. "You already know."
She stood. "Was it you… or the other you?"
He stepped into the room. "He wasn't supposed to exist."
"That's not an answer."
Jay moved slowly, deliberately. "They activated him as a backup. In case I rejected the procedure. But I didn't. I became me. He was… unstable."
Lena's voice trembled. "Did he try to kill you?"
Jay shook his head. "No. He thought I was the copy. He was trying to save you from me."
The room felt colder now.
Jay sat across from her. His voice lowered. "He believed he loved you more."
"He still wrote me that letter," Lena whispered.
Jay nodded. "I know."
"You read it?"
"I wrote one too. But he delivered his first."
Lena stared at him. "So which of you was real?"
Jay looked at her for a long time. "Maybe it doesn't matter anymore."
But it did. It mattered more than ever.
That night, as Jay slept beside her again, Lena quietly rose.
She slipped outside, heart pounding, and walked to the backyard shed. It was where Jay had stored his old things before the crash.
She opened the door, expecting dust.
But the space was spotless.
And in the corner… a cot. A notebook. Water bottles. And a bloodstained hoodie with a scarred label: "JD-2."
Her breath caught.
He'd been here. The other Jay.
Recently.
She picked up the notebook.
The last page read:
"If you're reading this, I'm still out here.
And he's still lying to you."