PROLOGUE

I STROLLED DOWN the streets of Chicago, passing numerous salons, restaurants, and cafés, glazing over each of them with boredom.

A familiar head of dark, chocolate brown hair made me stiffen. The harsh scent of strawberry shampoo and perfume filled my nostrils, making my muscles clench with anxiety.

It's her.

"Hana?" I whispered through the bustle of people. I felt a weak smile twitch across my face.

I ran towards her, thoughts and emotions running through me all at once. But there was one that pounded through me like the pulse of a heartbeat.

She's alive.

I pushed myself past the memory, shoving thoughtlessly against the cluster of bodies.

My hand grabbed her shoulder, causing her to jump in surprise. She turned to face me, her soft yet dark eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Hana." I whispered, bliss coating her name. Her expression morphed into concern.

"I-I'm sorry but I think you got the wrong person." she breathed, her voice as smooth and warm as honey. Then reality crashed down on me.

She...

I searched her gaze, but found nothing behind the darkness of her eyes. Not a flicker of familiarity. No emotions. Just... empty.

She doesn't remember me.

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