On my eighteenth birthday, my mother trekked over two mountains just to buy me a cake. It was the first time I had ever seen a birthday cake. I fought back the urge to drool and, in the flickering candlelight, silently made a wish. I wished that, when I woke up, I would have a life free from worry about food or shelter, a life where I could focus solely on my studies, get into a top university like Harvard or Yale, and finally make something of myself. That night, I slept more soundly than I ever had before. When I awoke, I discovered I was thirty-two years old. My husband was handsome and charming, my son clever and adorable. Except, neither of them loved me. When I realized this, I didn’t even feel a pang of sadness. After all, the eighteen-year-old me was relentlessly ambitious. How could I possibly love them? 1 After finding my ID and phone, and confirming in the shortest time possible that I had indeed woken up on the day after my thirty-second birthday, I fell apart. Wait a minute. Wasn’t my eighteenth-birthday wish for a life where I could study without distractions and get into an Ivy League school? Thirty-two… I was well past my prime for college applications! Just as this reality sent my brain into a tailspin, a voice came from the doorway. "I bet Mom's going to say I can't go to Aunt Corinne's again today. Dad, I really don't want to do my homework at home. Can you make up an excuse and take me out? I want to do my homework at Starbucks with Aunt Corinne!" The child's voice was dripping with disdain. The "Mom" he was talking about… was that me? I took a minute to absorb the shock, but I quickly regained my composure. Right. I was thirty-two, after all. Having a son was normal. Having a husband was normal. At least I got to have a kid without the pain of childbirth. That was a plus. Just as I was trying to accept all of this, a boy suddenly burst into the room. His handsome face, a carbon copy of his father's, twisted into a look of disgust the moment he saw me. "Didn't you say you were sick? Looks like you were lying to Dad and me again!" My mouth fell open, about to offer an explanation. But then, Paul, his face a dark cloud, followed him in. "Yesterday, you said it was your birthday, so our son skipped his group project to come home early. And what did you do? Complained of a headache and nausea, sulking all night. Was it because Corinne Jensen was his project advisor? I told you, she's just his teacher. Why are you always so paranoid?" It sounded like I'd thrown a tantrum yesterday. Because of a teacher named Corinne Jensen? I had no idea why my thirty-two-year-old self would do that, but right now, I was speechless. All things considered, I decided on the path of least resistance. "I'm sorry. No matter what, yesterday was my fault." My son's eyes widened. Paul stared at me, his face a mixture of surprise that quickly curdled into disgust and suspicion. "What new game are you playing now?" "Forget it, Dad," my son, Evan, said, tugging on Paul's hand. "Ms. Jensen is already waiting for us. Let's just go." It was clear that, compared to an apology from his mother, he was far more interested in this so-called Ms. Jensen. But thankfully, I had no memory of him, so I didn't feel hurt. 2 My appearance may have aged, but inside, I was still eighteen. I went online and looked up my academic records. To my delight, I discovered I had a bachelor's degree, but there were still plenty of options if I wanted to continue my education. With enough self-study, I could even apply for a master's program at Harvard or Yale. The thought thrilled me. Who said high school was your only chance to change your life? Thirty-two was a perfectly good age to go to grad school! More importantly, when I went to the bank to check my account balance, I was so happy I could have cried. The eighteen-year-old me had never seen so much money! My checking account alone had over a hundred thousand dollars. That didn't even include the three hundred thousand in investments, half a million in stocks, and over eight hundred thousand in options and funds. I did a quick mental calculation and felt so blissful I nearly fainted. I couldn't imagine what my thirty-two-year-old self had to be unhappy about. If there was one thing, it had to be this: my education wasn't high enough, and I didn't have enough money! "I told you, Paul is a total scumbag! He's not worth you dying over! Do you get it?" The moment I stepped out of the bank, I was ambushed by my best and only friend. She dragged me to a nearby café and launched into a lecture. Only then did I learn that I hadn't been "faking sick" yesterday. "That Corinne Jensen is a total witch. She gives Evan special treatment, brings him snacks and toys every day to bribe him. Evan used to be in the top three of his class, and now he's dropped to thirtieth." "You're always pushing him to study hard. He used to just swallow his anger, but now, with Paul encouraging him and Corinne leading him astray, he'll be lucky to even get into a state college next year." "You've been losing sleep over this, and what do they do? The two of them take Ms. Jensen night-fishing. That's what sent you to the hospital! You came home last night after getting an IV, hoping to celebrate your birthday with them, and they just tore into you… You didn't reply to my texts all night. I thought you'd done something stupid… You scared me to death." "Night-fishing? My ass! She was fishing for a man in the woods!" Pfft— I couldn't help it. I nearly sprayed the coffee I’d just sipped. "Maybe… they really were just fishing." My friend stared at me, her eyes wide, and reached out to feel my forehead. "Girl, what is wrong with you? Do you have a fever? Have you forgotten all those disgusting texts and pictures she sent you?" I froze. Following her instructions, I found the vile messages on my phone. I was stunned. But I didn't feel a shred of sadness. My reaction was so detached that my friend insisted on taking me to a doctor. Finally, I had no choice but to come clean. "Um… actually… I…" "What? You've forgotten everything after you turned eighteen?" I had just learned that my best friend's name was Stella Luna, and that we’d met in college and had been inseparable ever since. She was even my maid of honor. I felt terrible for having forgotten her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to forget you. But I feel so comfortable with you, like I can tell you anything. You feel closer than my own husband." Perhaps that soothed her, because she took a breath and sat back down. "That's more like it. And considering that besides meeting me, nothing good has happened to you in the last fourteen years, forgetting it all is probably for the best. Nothing important was lost." I nodded vigorously. "And I just looked at some graduate school practice exams online, and it feels like all my college knowledge is still in my head… It's like my brain is full of nothing but knowledge now. Stella, I want to take this chance to go to grad school, right now!" "But… Corinne Jensen is circling Paul like a vulture. If you go off to study now, aren't you just handing him and Evan over to her on a silver platter?" Stella watched my face, worried this was just a fleeting whim. But I just smiled. "Right now, Paul and Evan are just two strangers to me. I don't care who they're with or what they do. Honestly, Stella, all I can think about is one thing: I want to go to grad school. I want to go to an Ivy League school on the East Coast. And I just checked my bank account. If I'm careful with my money, I can buy a small place in Boston or New Haven and live comfortably for the rest of my life. Why would I waste it here?" Stella looked like she was about to cry. She gripped my hand, her voice thick with emotion. "Oh, my god… you really… I'm so happy for you! I have to say, this amnesia is the best thing that's ever happened to you!" 3 After coffee, Stella went with me to a law firm to draft a divorce agreement. I had no idea if Paul would sign it, but I figured there was no harm in trying. Then, we went shopping for a couple of new outfits before I headed home. As I reached the front door, I heard laughter from inside. "Aunt Corinne, you're amazing!" "Evan, this game is super easy. I'll teach you. If you use your special move right here, no one can hit you!" "Whoa! That's awesome! Aunt Corinne, you should just stay and be my mom. I want to play games with you every day!" Evan's voice reached my ears, and even though I had no memory of him, my heart gave a sharp, painful twist. It was a visceral, instinctual reaction. It seemed I couldn't completely sever the bond with the child who had come from my own body. But thankfully, I had lost all my memories. The pang of pain was fleeting. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The laughter in the room died instantly. "What are you doing back?" Evan glared at me, his eyes not those of a son looking at his mother, but of someone looking at an enemy. I smiled. "This is my house. Why shouldn't I be here?" Corinne Jensen quickly stood up, trying to smooth things over. "I'm so sorry, Mrs. White. Evan just asked me to come over and play with him for a little while. I'll leave right now." She grabbed her bag and made to leave, but she'd only taken a few steps when a voice came from behind me. "Corinne? What are you doing with your bag?" Paul walked in, carrying a high-end takeout container from a Japanese restaurant. "I got that sashimi you love from that place downtown. Let's all have dinner together." Paul's voice and expression were so gentle, a world away from the man in our wedding photos. It seemed I was the one who was out of place. I picked up my own shopping bags and turned to go upstairs, but Corinne suddenly rushed forward, grabbed my hand, and dropped to her knees in front of me with a thud. "Mrs. White, I don't mean anything by it, please don't misunderstand. I was just playing a game with Evan… Please don't report me. I already transferred you the money you asked for last time. I've taken out all the payday loans I can. I really don't have any more money… If you don't like me, I'll disappear right now. I promise… I'll never appear in front of Paul or Evan again." 4 "Mia Matlin! What did you do to Corinne?" Paul's voice was practically a growl. He set the sashimi container aside, but before he could say another word, there was another thud. Evan had charged at me, knocking me to the ground. "Bad mommy! Why are you trying to kick Aunt Corinne out? And you took money from her? You're a bad person! I don't want you to be my mommy anymore! I want Aunt Corinne to be my mommy!" If I hadn't lost my memory, this would probably be a heart-wrenching moment. Thankfully, I had. I didn't even know if what Corinne had said was true or not, but as Evan knocked me over, the smile I saw on her face was very, very real. My gut told me her story was a complete fabrication. But it was clear this father-son duo had no interest in hearing my side of the story. Not that I had a side to tell, with my memory gone. So I might as well… play along. I calmly got to my feet, picked up the new handbag I’d just bought, and brushed the invisible dust from my clothes. I walked over to Corinne. "I don't care how many loans you've taken out. The pathetic amount you gave me last time was barely enough to cover a snack. Since you're telling everyone I took your money, you might as well prepare a bit more this time. How does two hundred thousand sound? My husband is willing to pay for you, after all. You two love playing happy family? Go ahead. As long as the money's right, I can turn a blind eye. Otherwise, a teacher with no morals, destroying a student's family… if word of that gets out, your reputation…" I reached out and gently brushed a finger across Corinne's perfectly made-up face, letting out a soft laugh. "…might be ruined forever!" With that, I turned on my six-centimeter heels and, humming a little tune, walked up the stairs, leaving Paul and Evan staring in disbelief, and a pale, stunned Corinne kneeling on the floor, unable to process what had just happened. 5 After a shower, I settled in to work on the practice exams I'd downloaded. I was from a remote mountain village, and since I wasn't a natural genius, I had to make up for it with hard work. I'd chosen liberal arts and majored in foreign languages in college. According to my records, I had majored in English and minored in Spanish. For four years, I'd done nothing but memorize vocabulary, do internships, and get certifications. Fortunately, I still recognized most of the words on the practice exams. Otherwise, grad school would have been an impossible dream. Tonight, I printed out three full practice tests to get a baseline. Just as I finished the first one and reached for my phone to check the time, I saw a message from Paul, whose notifications I had muted. [Transfer: $200,000.00] If you dare to spread rumors, I won't let you off the hook! There's nothing between me and Corinne. We're just friends. I looked at the transfer notification, remembered what my lawyer had told me today, and immediately declined it. Paul instantly replied with: ??? I was still typing my response when another message from him came through. Even if you want to apologize now, I won't forgive you, Mia Matlin! You're a complete lunatic! I furrowed my brow, struggling to find the letters on the keyboard. After a moment, I finally finished typing. Please specify in the transfer notes: 'Voluntary Gift'. Otherwise, I will not accept. After I sent that, there was no reply from Paul for over ten minutes. I didn't bother waiting and went on to the next practice test. After finishing the second test, I checked my phone. There was another transfer from Paul. Voluntary Gift to Mia Matlin. Transfer: $200,000.00. I smiled in satisfaction and tapped "Accept."
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