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When he requested the presidential suite at the reception from a receptionist younger than I remembered.

The young receptionist greeted his boss cordially. Of course, that place was part of Jack's inheritance, the only one who hadn't deduced that until a few days ago was me.

He dragged me to the elevator where he pressed the button for the 36th floor upon entering. I took a deep breath, feeling my legs tremble with every floor we ascended.

As the doors opened, despite my protests, he forced me into that apartment. I felt my heartbeat pause for a second as I stepped into that spacious place.

It was as if I had gone back in time eight years ago; effortlessly, everything was in its place just as it had been the night of the accident.

The kitchen was immaculate, the outside garden just as beautiful as in my memories, the bed with the same sheet, absolutely everything was immaculate.

"Do you remember?" he asked thoughtfully, observing every corner just like me.

"Yes..."

"It all seems to be