Lucas stood in front of the bedroom door, his hand resting on the doorknob. His heart raced with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. He had yet to explore the rest of the house, and the thought of meeting people who, in theory, should be his new family made him apprehensive.
He stood there for a few seconds, trying to organize his thoughts. He had no memories of the boy he replaced, no recollection of who he was, how he acted, or even what he liked to do. All he knew was that he had woken up in a child's body, with injuries suggesting an accident or something worse. The truth was, he had no idea what had happened.
"How should I act around them?" he thought, feeling a knot form in his stomach. Lucas knew that any inconsistency could raise suspicion. If he acted oddly or differently from how the boy would, he could be questioned, and the last thing he wanted was to draw unnecessary attention.
He took a deep breath and made a decision. He would act as if he had lost his memory. It would be the perfect excuse for his unfamiliarity with his new life. Any questions about the past could be avoided, and any strange behavior could be justified by the trauma the body had clearly suffered.
"If anyone asks, I'll say I don't remember anything," he decided, tightening his grip on the doorknob. "It's the only way to avoid problems for now."
With the plan in mind, Lucas felt a bit more confident. He hoped that this new family would be understanding and accept his excuse without questions. Still, he couldn't predict their reaction, and that made him slightly uneasy.
Finally, with his breathing controlled and his thoughts in order, he turned the doorknob slowly and opened the door. It was time to face the unknown and discover what awaited him on the other side.
Lucas descended the stairs cautiously, each step echoing faintly through the house. The wooden floor beneath his feet was impeccably polished, reflecting the care with which the house was maintained. At the bottom of the stairs, he found himself in a hallway leading to several rooms. He continued forward, guided by growing curiosity, until he entered a larger space that appeared to be the living room.
The living room was spacious and well-decorated, with comfortable sofas, an elegant coffee table, and several shelves filled with books and decorative items. A large television was mounted on the wall, and windows allowed natural light to gently illuminate the room. Lucas walked slowly through the room, observing every detail, and with each new element he saw, it became clearer that this family had considerable means.
"This family definitely has enough resources for my new life to go smoothly," he thought, feeling relieved.
He stopped in the center of the room and looked around, thinking about the best way to get someone's attention without appearing uncomfortable. "Mom?" he called, his voice echoing softly through the space.
Almost immediately, he heard hurried footsteps coming from somewhere in the house. A woman in her thirties appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide with surprise. She looked shocked to see him there, as if witnessing a miracle. Without hesitation, she rushed toward him and, in an impulsive gesture, enveloped him in a tight hug, as if reuniting with someone she loved dearly after years of separation.
Lucas was momentarily stunned, feeling the warmth of the embrace and the strength with which the woman held him. It was a gesture full of emotion, almost desperate. He quickly began to reflect on the intensity of that reaction. Something about his injuries and the state of his body seemed to be the reason for such commotion.
Lucas felt the woman slowly pull away, her hands still on his shoulders. She looked directly into his eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks, but a relieved smile lit up her face. The contrast between the tears and the smile made her a figure both emotional and warm.
"What happened?" Lucas asked, trying to understand the reason for the emotion.
"You're here and well, son. That's all that matters." She replied, her voice choked but full of affection.
At that moment, Lucas confirmed his theory. The injuries on his new body had clearly been a major concern. He decided to follow through with his plan, feigning innocence as if his memories were limited.
"What's my name, Mom?" he asked, trying to sound as genuine as possible.
The woman blinked a few times, surprised and confused by the question. "What do you mean, baby? You're my Vitor!" She replied, still trying to process what was happening.
"I don't remember anything, only you," Lucas said softly, almost apologetically.
The woman's expression changed instantly. The relief that had dominated her face was replaced by a mixture of concern and fear. The idea that her son might have lost his memory, possibly due to what had happened to him, seemed to terrify her. The suspicions she had begun to form were now confirmed by Lucas's words.
Still, she tried to stay calm. The last thing she wanted was to frighten him or make him uncomfortable. Swallowing her panic, she smiled encouragingly and said, "It's okay, my love. Don't worry about it right now."
She guided him to the living room table, where there were cushioned chairs and a well-set dining table. "Why don't you sit here, dear? I'll prepare something for you to eat. Are you hungry?"
Lucas nodded, appreciating how she tried to downplay the situation. He knew that even though she was confused and scared, she was doing her best to take care of him.
As Lucas, now called Vitor, settled into the chair, his eyes couldn't help but focus on the woman who now seemed to be his mother. She was attractive: fair skin, well-maintained, dark blonde hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and almost black, deep, expressive eyes. Her presence exuded a mix of kindness and concern that Vitor found comforting.
As he observed the woman, Vitor remembered when he looked at himself in the mirror a few minutes earlier. He noted that his skin color and hair tone were similar to his mother's, but his face and eyes diverged from hers. He realized that his face resembled his father's more, with the same green eyes he had inherited.
"Not that it's bad," Vitor thought, lightly touching his face with the tips of his fingers. "My face is still quite childish, but it has distinctive features."
He wondered what the future might hold. Over time, his appearance would surely attract attention. "It would be kind of crazy to have a legion of female fans cheering for me," he thought, a smile involuntarily appearing on his lips. The idea of having a crowd of admirers shouting his name and cheering for him on a football field seemed like a fun fantasy.
As he got lost in these thoughts, the smell of food began to fill the room. The woman, still with a gentle smile on her face, went to the kitchen to prepare something for him. Vitor stood up and looked around, starting to feel a bit more at ease. He knew that this new life was just beginning, and he needed to navigate it carefully.