Lost in My Heartbeat

After Alina lost her memory, many things about her became impossible to explain.

The bar-shaped scar on her chest. The parrot tattoo on her collarbone. And the tall, indistinct figure that haunted her dreams.

Later, when that figure became a real person, Alina finally understood that some memories were irreplaceable—and that her heartbeat could lead her to fall in love with the same person all over again.

-

Rain hammered against the car, drumming so loudly that it drowned out everything else.

The photography equipment on the back seat was covered with a waterproof protective cover. Raindrops clinging to its surface trickled slowly down onto the seat cushion.

Alina pulled out a tissue and wiped the droplets from the protective cover and her umbrella.

Her slender fingers were soaked through, the icy rain turning the backs of her hands bright red.

January in Aurelia City was always bitterly cold.

It felt entirely different from the weather in America, and somehow unfamiliar. She curled in on herself slightly and exhaled softly.

“At this rate, I don’t think this rain is going to turn into snow.” Clara, who was driving, lowered her window and leaned forward for a better look outside. “What if we make the trip for nothing?”

Hearing that, Alina lifted her eyes. The car was moving fast, and rain blew in diagonally through the open window, its chill brushing her face. She blinked, then rolled the window back up.

“It’ll snow. With skies this gloomy, it would be ridiculous if it didn’t.”

“Let’s hope so. I can’t have you, fresh off the plane, coming all this way just to waste a day.”

Alina chuckled and held her palms near the air vent to warm them.

“It’s not like I’ve found a job yet. I’ve got plenty of time. Taking some shots of the rain would be fine, too. Besides, if we can’t do it today, we can always come back in a couple of days.”

“Your attitude hasn’t changed at all.” Clara glanced at the navigation screen. “We’ve still got more than half an hour to go. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

It had been a week since Alina returned from America.

Coming back to Aurelia City, where she’d attended college, had been a plan she’d been quietly preparing for a long time. Even if it meant starting her job search all over again and learning to live on her own, she had to return to her home country.

So, while her parents were away on a business trip, Alina had seized the opportunity, packed her suitcase, and made her way back from Los Angeles to the country she called home.

She just had no idea how she would explain herself when her parents eventually discovered she’d returned.

Over the past few days, she’d pushed those worries to the back of her mind. Between recovering from jet lag and getting her rental apartment in order, she’d been so busy that she barely had time to catch her breath.

In the midst of that chaotic new routine, running into a college senior had been an unexpected coincidence.

Alina had met Clara on her way to an interview for a photographer position at a magazine. Technically, she was there for an interview, but she wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the job search. She wasn’t familiar with the employment market back home, and she wasn’t in any hurry to commit to anything.

When she learned that Clara was working on a city documentary and needed someone to shoot a large amount of establishing footage, Alina had been more than happy to help.

She wasn’t particularly keen on continuing with interviews anyway, so she’d decided to accompany her senior on the shoot.

Their destination today was a famous wetland attraction on the outskirts of Aurelia City. The place was renowned for its snow-covered scenery, which would make a perfect addition to the promotional film.

The sky was so dark and heavy that it looked ready to collapse at any moment.

By the time the first flakes of snow drifted past the window, Alina had already fallen asleep against the backrest.

Sometimes, dreams were like glass bottles.

You were trapped inside, unable to cry out or find a way to escape.

All Alina could do was watch, again and again, as that tall, blurred figure disappeared into the light.

How many times had she dreamed of that figure now?

Alina jolted awake in the warmth of the car, sweat beading on her forehead. Her body shuddered involuntarily, knocking a bottle of mineral water onto the seat cushion beside her.

Clara, who had stopped at a red light, startled and turned to look at her.

“What happened? A nightmare?”

Snow fell silently onto the windshield as the wipers swept back and forth.

The rhythmic sound gradually steadied Alina’s heartbeat. Her emotions began to settle, and she let out a slow breath.

“I’m fine.” She lowered the window halfway and rubbed her chest. “I’ve been having dreams like this ever since I lost my memory. I’m used to it.”

Every time she dreamed, her chest ached.

Nothing particularly significant had happened during the three years she’d lost to memory.

What could possibly have happened during her college years? That was what her best friend, Lily, had told her.

And it was true. Nothing had happened.

Alina knew herself well. Given that she’d chosen to study photography because of her older brother, she must have devoted herself wholeheartedly to making documentaries throughout college.

Those three years had probably been uneventful and routine. She could still recall fragments of her freshman year, and there really didn’t seem to be anything interesting about the time she’d spent at university.

But there were still far too many things she couldn’t explain.

Alina pressed a hand to her chest. Snowflakes swept past her eyes, leaving no trace behind.

Clara glanced at her through the rearview mirror, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“What do you dream about after losing your memory?”

Alina pressed her lips together. Clara’s habit of asking questions for her documentaries suddenly came to mind.

She tucked her emotions away. The tall figure in her mind seemed to drift off with the falling snow, and she changed the subject.

“Clara, have you ever thought about something? If someone forgets all their experiences, are they still the same person they used to be?”

“Of course you are,” Clara assured her.

Really?

Then why did it always feel as though something was missing?

Alina pursed her lips.

“After I lost my memory, I looked up a lot of information online. Whenever I came across people who’d gone through the same thing, I couldn’t help wondering what the difference was between someone before and after losing their memories. Were they still the same person? Their bodies had experienced everything, but their memories no longer carried any record of it. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“That’s a really interesting perspective.” Clara furrowed her brow, then seemed to realize how inappropriate her words might sound and quickly added, “Alina, the trauma has already happened. You shouldn’t keep dwelling on it. Otherwise, you’ll end up losing yourself in the idea that nothing means anything.”

She nodded toward the window.

“Look. The snow is real, at least.”

The car slowed down. Alina turned and lowered the window again. Snow was falling more heavily now, swirling through the air as though it meant to smother every trace of restlessness and unease in her heart.

“Are we here?”

A vehicle approaching with its headlights on swept a beam of light across her eyes, making her blink.

“Almost. Give me a second to figure out where the parking lot is.”

The blinding glare faded. Beyond the curtain of snow, a vehicle stood parked by the roadside, its red and blue lights flashing in alternating bursts.

A police car.

A tall figure stood beside it, though the falling snow made it difficult for Alina to see clearly.

Still, a sharp, icy presence seemed to sweep toward her, like a blizzard rolling in from Siberia, momentarily clouding her vision.

Alina froze. Her chest tightened. Before she could get a proper look at the figure, Clara had already turned into a nearby parking space.

They stepped onto the boardwalk, where dirty, dark-brown slush had collected beneath their feet. The reeds in the scenic wetland were dry and withered, while wild vines and weeds grew at crooked angles, their twisting branches tangled around the railings.

Clara carried the camera as she walked ahead. Alina followed close behind, desperately trying to summon any memories of the place.

Nothing came to mind. She supposed she must never have visited during college.

She’d thought returning home might help her recover her memories, but she still felt nothing. Had she really left no memories of her college years in this city at all?

“This spot looks good. Let’s record some footage here first. I want to capture the sound of the snow.” Clara set up the camera.

Alina’s nose had turned red from the cold. She sniffled and tugged at the edge of her knitted beanie, then took the audio-recording equipment out of Clara’s bag.

“This is the first snowfall I’ve seen since coming back.”

“It snows a lot here. It’ll probably keep snowing through February and March, too.”

Clara’s phone suddenly began buzzing. She frowned at the screen.

“My boss keeps calling me. I’m going to take this. Keep an eye on things for me, will you?”

“Sure.”

Alina watched Clara walk toward the far end of the boardwalk, leaving a line of footprints behind her. A gust of wind swept through the wetland, and Alina turned to look in its direction.

In the distance, the police car was still flashing its lights, standing out brilliantly against the vast, empty whiteness of the snow-covered wetlands.

Her fingers, numb and trembling from the cold, fumbled inside her bag for her camera. She took a few photographs, but when she pointed the lens toward Clara, she noticed a man approaching from the other side of the boardwalk.

He was hunched over, heading straight toward her senior.

Alina lowered her camera and stepped into the wind and snow.

“Clara!”

The man really was heading for Clara. He snatched the phone from her hand, shoved her aside, and took off running in Alina’s direction with the phone.

Alina reached out to grab him, but a snowflake the size of a red bean struck her eye.

Her stiff fingertips caught only the edge of his shabby clothing. The man dashed past the camera, knocking over the tripod, then laughed as he ran off.

Before Alina could even process what had happened, Clara let out a scream and took off after him.

“Oh, for God’s sake! Do you have any idea how much that equipment costs, you idiot? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Alina watched Clara’s head disappear into the reeds. The snow fell silently, but her heart pounded violently.

She steadied the tripod and ran a few steps in the direction of the footprints, but Clara was nowhere to be seen.

Snow settled on her eyelashes. Her lips, already dry and chapped from adjusting to life back home, felt tight and uncomfortable.

After taking a couple of ragged breaths, Alina spotted the police car still parked not far away. Without hesitation, she took a long stride over the wooden railing and plunged through the dry grass, running straight toward it.

Behind her, she could faintly hear Clara screaming. Somewhere among the reeds, something rustled.

Alina didn’t dare waste another second. She quickened her pace and raced ahead.

Through the wind and snow, beneath the flashing lights of the police car, stood that silent figure.

She’d seen him for only a fleeting moment from inside the car, yet the image had already etched itself into her memory.

Alina came to a breathless stop beside the police car, bent forward with her hands braced on her knees, and fixed her gaze on the pair of black leather shoes in front of her.

“Are you a police officer? Help! Someone’s been robbed! My friend went after him... You have to come with me!”

Without waiting for a reply, Alina grabbed the tall man standing in front of the car and pulled him toward the boardwalk.

She was moving so quickly that snow had plastered itself across her face. Worried that it would obstruct her vision, she reached up to adjust her knitted beanie, only for it to slip straight off her head and land on the ground.

Her neat, chestnut-brown short hair lifted in the wind, carrying a faint floral fragrance.

It seemed strangely out of place against the cold, desolate winter day.

They hadn’t gone far before the police officer behind her took the lead. He overtook her with ease and ran toward the head emerging from the reeds.

Alina’s legs, unused to this much exercise, began to tremble. She slowed down, struggling to keep up.

As expected, you really could count on the police back home.

From a distance, she watched the officer vault over the railing with astonishing agility. Just as he cleared it, something seemed to fall from his pocket, flashing briefly in the light before disappearing into the muddy marsh below.

What was it?

Alina had no time to think about it. Clara suddenly emerged from the grass, weeds tangled in her hair and mud smeared across her face. She clutched her phone in one hand and swore under her breath.

“This is ridiculous. How did I end up running after some complete idiot?”

She climbed back over the railing, and Alina hurried over to help her.

“Clara, are you okay? You scared me to death!”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. He wasn’t exactly a robber. He just seemed...” Clara hesitated, searching for the right words. “Not particularly intelligent.”

She dropped onto the boardwalk and rubbed her aching legs.

“Made me run all that way. I’m exhausted.”

“Oliver, what’s going on here?”

A voice sounded from behind them.

A uniformed police officer stood there, his brows knitted together as he stared at the officer emerging from the reeds.

“Just catching someone,” Oliver replied.

He had a fistful of the suspect’s clothing and was trying to haul him up. The uniformed officer stepped forward to help.

“How did you end up arresting someone?” He pulled the man up and took a closer look, then exclaimed in surprise. “Hey, isn’t this the gatekeeper’s son?”

“You know him?” Oliver asked.

Bracing one hand against the railing, Oliver climbed back onto the boardwalk.

“Yeah. He’s got an intellectual disability and often wanders into the nearby police station.”

The uniformed officer turned toward the two women.

“Are you ladies all right? Did he grab you or try to play some kind of prank on you?”

Clara’s anger flared instantly.

“What do you mean, a prank? He knocked over my camera! Do you have any idea how much that thing costs, Officer?”

Their footprints on the boardwalk were quickly buried beneath the falling snow, only for another set to appear almost immediately.

A man in a security guard’s uniform came running toward them, cursing as he went.

“You little brat! There you go again, causing trouble!”

At last, Alina began to recover from the dizziness brought on by the chase. Amid the overlapping shouts and curses, she looked straight at the police officer she’d personally dragged into the fray.

He stood tall and straight, wearing a plush-collared jacket over black suit trousers. His leather shoes were splattered with muddy water.

His attire seemed oddly at odds with the biting wind around them.

Perhaps sensing someone watching him, Oliver glanced in her direction.

For the first time, Alina saw him clearly.

His short hair was neatly styled, and his features were sharp and striking. The plush collar of his jacket did nothing to hide the clean, defined line of his jaw. His deep-set eyes carried an innate sense of authority when fixed on someone, his gaze cold yet tinged with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify.

Alina couldn’t understand it.

At that moment, the wind howled past them.

His attention had already shifted elsewhere.

Only Alina’s chaotic heartbeat remained, pounding wildly in the silence of the snow-covered world.

A fine, persistent ache spread through her chest. She bit her lip gently.

“Enough. Stop arguing. Take him in first, and then have the equipment checked.”

Oliver patted the uniformed officer on the shoulder and walked a few steps forward. Almost unconsciously, he slipped a hand into his pocket, only to find it empty.

Walking slightly behind him, Alina had been trying to comfort Clara when she noticed his pale fingers.

Suddenly, she remembered the object she’d seen fall from his pocket when he’d vaulted over the railing.

So she hadn’t imagined it after all.

“Um...”

Alina tilted her head back to look at him. Her small, slightly upturned phoenix eyes gleamed with a mischievous curiosity, like a kitten cautiously poking its head out of hiding.

“Did you lose something?”

Oliver’s hand tightened briefly inside his pocket. He lowered his gaze to her, his voice indifferent.

“Where?”

How rude.

Alina frowned and brushed the loose strands of hair away from her eyes. Her amber eyes shimmered with flecks of light.

“Could you tell me your name first? Then I’ll tell you where you dropped it.”

She hadn’t heard what his colleagues called him over the howling wind and falling snow.

Oliver lowered his eyes and let out a soft, amused laugh.

“Is threatening a police officer really a good idea?”