WHO I AM? Can you trust yourself or your loved one

The yacht moved silently across the dark Arabian Sea, its enormous white body glowing beneath hundreds of warm golden lights. From a distance, it looked like a floating palace surrounded by nothing but endless darkness and stars.

Music drifted across the upper deck, mingling with the sound of laughter and the gentle clinking of champagne glasses. Beautifully dressed guests moved between the dance floor, the bar, and the dining area while waiters carried silver trays filled with expensive drinks and delicate appetizers.

It was supposed to be a night of celebration.

Everything had been arranged perfectly.

The tables were decorated with white flowers and flickering candles. Soft lights reflected across the polished floor, and the ocean breeze carried the scent of saltwater through the open decks.

Yet, beneath all the elegance, something about the night felt strangely unsettled.

The upper deck was alive with laughter, but the lower part of the yacht remained unusually quiet. Every now and then, a distant sound seemed to travel through the walls before disappearing beneath the music.

A door somewhere below closed softly.

A few seconds later, another opened.

Nobody seemed to pay attention.

The celebration continued.

But the further the yacht moved into the darkness, the heavier the atmosphere seemed to become.

Near one side of the deck, a group of guests were laughing over their drinks while, only a few metres away, two members of the crew exchanged a brief look before continuing with their work.

Nobody knew what was happening below.

Nobody asked.

The music grew louder, and the guests returned their attention to the celebration.

A woman stood near the railing, looking out across the dark ocean. The lights of the yacht disappeared into the vastness of the sea only a short distance away, leaving nothing but black water beyond them.

She remained there for several moments, watching the waves.

Then she heard something.

A faint sound coming from somewhere beneath the deck.

She turned her head.

The sound was gone.

She looked toward the staircase leading downstairs.

Nothing appeared unusual.

After a moment, she turned back toward the party.

The music continued.

The laughter continued.

And then, without warning...

a woman's scream tore through the yacht.

The sound came from below deck.

It was sharp, terrified, and filled with such raw fear that the entire celebration seemed to freeze.

The music stopped.

Glasses remained suspended halfway to people's lips.

Conversations died instantly.

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

Then someone shouted from the staircase.

Several guests rushed toward the lower deck, followed by members of the crew.

More voices rose through the yacht as people tried to understand what had happened.

Guest: "What was that?"

Another Guest: "Someone screamed downstairs!"

People pushed through the narrow passageway, calling out and opening doors as they searched.

But the yacht that had been filled with music only moments earlier had become a place of confusion and fear.

Something had happened.

Something terrible.

And nobody knew exactly what they were about to find.

---

The following morning...

The emergency doors of the hospital flew open.

Two nurses rushed a stretcher through the corridor while a doctor followed closely behind.

A young woman lay unconscious beneath the harsh hospital lights.

Her face was badly bruised, and blood covered part of her forehead and the side of her face. An oxygen mask covered her mouth while the faint rhythm of the monitor followed the hurried movement of the stretcher.

The nurses pushed her toward the ICU.

Nurse: "Make way, please!"

The doors opened.

The stretcher disappeared inside.

The doors closed again.

For a moment, the corridor fell silent.

Nobody knew who the woman was.

She had no identification.

No handbag.

No documents.

Nothing that could tell the hospital staff her name or where she had come from.

There was only one thing found with her.

A thin chain around her neck.

A nurse carefully placed it inside an evidence bag before handing it to the police officers who had arrived to investigate.

One of the officers studied the chain beneath the corridor lights.

It looked ordinary.

But somehow, after everything that had happened during the night, nothing about the unidentified woman felt ordinary anymore.

The officer looked toward the closed ICU doors.

Police Officer: "Has anyone come looking for her?"

The nurse shook her head.

Nurse: "No one."

The officer lowered his eyes to the evidence bag again.

There was still no name.

No family.

No explanation.

Only an unconscious woman behind the ICU doors and a chain that offered no answers.

Hours passed.

Then another day began.

The woman remained unconscious.

The hospital continued around her, unaware that the stranger lying inside the ICU carried a past that someone had desperately tried to bury.

And somewhere inside her unconscious mind, fragments of that terrible night were still waiting.

A voice.

A face.

A scream.

And a secret she had not yet remembered.

For now, the world knew nothing about her.

Not her name.

Not where she had come from.

Not why she had been on that yacht.

And certainly not why someone had wanted her forgotten.

Who was she?

And what had really happened on the yacht that night?

End of Chapter 1