A blade of light cut across her half-closed eyelids. Leyla let out a faint moan, more reflex than choice.

  Waking wasn’t a return. It was a tear, a violent rip through the fabric of nothingness.

  Her consciousness clawed its way up, struggling as if from a bottomless pit. Her head throbbed, a dull, pounding ache. Her body… gone. Motionless. As if it had vanished.

  She tried to move a finger, twitch a limb, nothing. No response. No sign of life.

  All she had left was her mind, foggy, muffled. She clung to it with everything she had, while thoughts, scattered at first, flooded her all at once, crashing like a river in flood:

  Where am I? What happened to me? Why can’t I move? Who am I?

  Helen appeared in the doorway, a woman in her sixties, radiating an energy that defied time. Her white hair spilled over her shoulders, held back only by a simple band. Her face, lined with years, still carried a luminous intensity. She wore denim overalls, a plain T-shirt, and canvas sneakers. Ordinary clothes, yet her presence seemed to fill the entire room.

  She saw Leyla, lying on the bed, motionless, eyes wide open, staring at her in confusion.

  “Well, what a lovely surprise!” Helen exclaimed, her voice warm and welcoming. “Good morning, sweetheart. Welcome to us.”

  Leyla frowned. The words reached her distorted, almost unreal, like echoes from a distant dream.

  “Don’t worry, darling,” Helen went on, stepping closer with deliberate calm. “I know how lost you must feel. But you’ll see, everything will make sense soon. This is the beginning of something new.”

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  Leyla stayed silent. The phrases slipped past her like water through her fingers. And yet, she couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. She was searching for something, a meaning, an anchor. As if Helen might offer an explanation that never came.

  “My name’s Helen,” the woman finally said with a gentle smile. “But if you’d like, you can call me Mom. Here in Edenlost, some even call me Mom.”

  Leyla didn’t react. Her gaze stayed locked, heavy with questions she couldn’t even shape into words.

  Helen sat down beside her, keeping her tone soft, coaxing. “How are you feeling? Can you talk? Do you understand me? Do you remember your name?”

  Still nothing. Leyla wasn’t even sure she understood what the woman was asking. Every thought dissolved into a maze with no exit.

  Helen leaned down to study her face more closely. One look was enough to grasp the seriousness of it. No movement. No reaction.

  “Don’t you worry, honey,” she whispered, her concern carefully hidden. “It’s normal at the start. Your body and mind just need time. Don’t push yourself. Trust me. We’re here to help you.”

  Her words were light, gentle as feathers. But to Leyla, they were nothing more than sounds, empty and distant.

  Helen bent lower and brushed a kiss across her forehead before stepping out, promising she’d be back with something to drink.

  That gesture should have comforted her. Instead, it left Leyla hollow, a yawning emptiness opening inside. And the moment the door clicked shut, panic rushed in.

  Who is that woman? Why does she talk to me like that? Why can’t I remember anything?

  She tried to speak. Nothing. Only silence. Words stayed buried, out of reach.

  She sank deeper into herself, retreating into the only image that remained sharp: a dream.

  An old woman, maybe her grandmother, was gently pushing her on a swing beneath a clear blue sky. In front of her, an angelic figure drew closer. It didn’t speak, yet its voice rang out inside her, clear and deep, carrying the same timbre as her mother’s, vibrating through her very core.

  Wherever you are, we’ll be with you. Explore your mind and set free the gift within you! Wake up, Leyla! Come back to us.

  Those words kept echoing inside her, but their meaning slipped away before she could hold on to it.

  The creak of the door yanked her back into the present. Helen was there again, a glass in her hands, the same smile fixed on her lips.

  “Here we are, sweetheart. You’ll see, things will get easier from now on. One step at a time, we’ll make it.”

  She sat down beside her once more.

  “To start, we need to think of a name. Don’t worry, no one here remembers theirs. You’ll choose one for yourself. When you feel a name that belongs to you, it’ll be yours. Until then… I’ll just call you dear.”

  Leyla parted her lips. Her voice was faint but clear. “Leyla.”

  The name surged forth without warning. It was there, solid, like an anchor. She didn’t know where it came from, yet she knew it was hers.

  Helen’s face lit up as she pressed her hands to her chest, deeply moved.

  “Leyla! It’s perfect. From this day on, that will be your name.” She kissed her gently on the forehead. But the touch sparked something in the girl, not tenderness, not comfort, but a sharp twinge of unease, as if the gesture hid something she couldn’t yet see.

  ????? ?????????? ?????

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