the test

The next morning, sunlight spilled into the apartment, warm and golden across the couch where Don sat curled up with a cup of tea. Mike had been awake for hours, watching him from the kitchen.

He’d decided the night before — if Don couldn’t separate himself from Xue Li, Mike would try to pull him out. But the wrong push might make the mask lock in even tighter.

Mike carried over two mugs of coffee and set one on the table in front of Don. “You always hated tea,” he said casually. “Remember?”

Don glanced up, then smiled faintly. “Maybe before. Now I like. Tea is… calm.”

Mike sat down beside him. “Don, what’s my sister’s name?”

“Emily,” Don said without hesitation.

“And what’s the first thing we ever did together? First time we met.”

Don’s gaze drifted toward the window. “We go fishing,” he said slowly, “and I get sunburn. Bad.”

Mike’s lips twitched — that was true.

But then Don added, “After, we… go to small noodle shop, eat together.”

Mike froze. That never happened. “That was Xue Li, wasn’t it?”

Don tilted his head. “Maybe both. Maybe memory mix.”

Mike leaned forward. “Okay. Try this. Say something — anything — that only Don would say. Something she wouldn’t know.”

Don’s lips pressed together. Seconds stretched. He started to speak twice, stopped both times. Then he said, “You still leave shoes in middle of hallway. Always trip on them.”

Mike blinked — that was Don. Definitely Don. Relief pricked at him, but it faded as Don’s smile softened into something smaller, more delicate.

“You should put away shoes,” Don added, voice lilting upward like Xue Li’s.

It was as if Don was a coin spinning in the air — never landing on one side for long.

Mike studied him. “We’re going to keep trying,” he said quietly. “I’m not losing you.”