"Baby, I'm fine. Go," Victoria insisted, unable to hide the frustration in her voice.

Dylan hesitated, his concern evident in his eyes. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone after a night like this."

A hint of annoyance flickered across Victoria's face as she rolled her eyes.

Seriously? she thought. I want to be alone, can't you see?

Was it sweet? Yes. Was it extremely exasperating? Also yes. She knew he meant well, of course, but still. She was an adult, she didn't need him to stay with her just because she had some nightmares.

Victoria sighed. He's just trying to help, she reminded herself. He's worried, that's it. Be nice.

"Baby, it's ok. I don't even remember what happened. Go," she repeated, her tone much softer this time. "Have fun with your friends. You've been planning this day for ages."

Dylan stepped closer, his hands finding their way to her hips. "You'll call me if anything happens?" he asked, pulling her gently against him.

"I promise," she reassured him, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "Now go! I still have three clients waiting for their paintings. I need to get started on them."

Dylan chuckled. "Alright, alright. Don't forget to take your pills today, ok? And please, take the others if anything hurts. You don't have to power through the pain, baby."

She nodded, casting her eyes to the ground. In some ways, this situation was harder on Dylan than on Victoria. At least, in her opinion.

He remembered how she used to be. He loved the old Victoria and probably prayed that she would wake up someday with her memories. But this Victoria was gone and never coming back. She had died seven years ago in a horrible way, leaving her memories of who she used to be behind.

Victoria was grateful for Dylan's support and love but also felt this immense guilt. She knew he loved her, didn't doubt it for one second, but he had to take care of her every single day, no matter the time. He deserved to be with someone who was his equal. Not someone he had to make sure didn't lose their mind.

Well, maybe she already lost it and he didn't want to tell her. That was a possibility.

Whenever Victoria tried to talk to him about this kind of stuff, he immediately shut down the conversation. He claimed he loved her and would never leave her. That she was the one, had always been. But on mornings like today, when she woke up with a headache and saw the heaviness etched onto his face, she wanted to run away and never look back.

He deserved so much more than what she could give him.

She didn't know what happened when she forgot to take her pills. The ones during the day were easier to remember, but at night, right before going to sleep… The voice stopped her. Lured her to sleep and convinced her to lie down in her bed before she could grasp the bottle. In the morning, she could say something had happened, but Dylan never told her what. He would simply kiss her forehead and sigh, whispering that he loved her so much.

"I will," she finally said. "I swear."

"Good."

Releasing her after one last kiss, he grabbed his bag from the floor and shouted "Love you!" before disappearing out of the apartment.

Victoria's shoulders relaxed. Lila was with Reid and Dylan was out with his friends for the day. Finally, she could have some much-needed alone time.

She made her way to the bedroom, stripping along the way. She might not remember what happened last night, but a strange yet known sensation lingered within her. On days like this,
she yearned for more. More than what Dylan could give her. She yearned for them. The phantom hands.

They weren't real, of course, but she could still somehow feel them. Like an old memory that refused to go away. And if they truly were memories… damn.

She didn't know whose hands they belonged to, or if they had ever been real. Perhaps they were merely figments of her hyperactive imagination. But when she was alone, she could feel them all over her body. Gentle, yet rough when she needed them to be. They held her with so much love, so much respect, offering a connection she so desperately craved. Sometimes, she didn't even need to touch herself; simply imagining their presence was enough.

Were the hands memories of her relationship with Dylan before the accident? If so, how could things have changed so drastically, sexually speaking? Or perhaps the phantom hands belonged to a secret lover. But where was the other guy? Surely, if he used to care for her, he would've found her by now.

Victoria mostly believed the hands were products of her imagination, a means to fill the void inside her. But gosh, didn't she wish they were real.

When she closed her eyes, she could feel their touch on her hips or their hands intertwined with hers during her climax. And sometimes, when she focused hard, she could almost feel a weight, as though an invisible body pressed against hers, fitting perfectly in all the right places. But it wasn't just about sex. The hands comforted her, played with her hair, ran their fingers along her arms, rubbed her shoulders - an invisible caress in moments of need.

A couple of minutes later, Victoria lay in bed, her chest heaving. She didn't want to open her eyes. Not yet. Behind her eyelids, she could pretend that a man was right there beside her. She could almost imagine the mischievous curve of his lips, like a Cheshire cat's grin.

And then, she started crying.

I'm the worst girlfriend in the world. What the hell is wrong with me?

Victoria yearned for the invisible man, and she loathed herself for it. Her boyfriend should have been enough for her. She shouldn't have to rely on her imagination to feel complete, to feel loved and desired. And yet, even though she would never dare admitted it out loud, not even to herself, she was more in love with those phantom hands than she'd ever been with Dylan.

—

Alya always had a thing for mysteries.

Some people were fine with unresolved questions, but Alya wasn't like them. She needed answers and was willing to do anything to get them. It probably was the main reason why she was such a good journalist. And now, Victoria was Alya's new mystery. Or rather, obsession.

Alya hadn't slept much. She couldn't close her eyes because otherwise, images of Marinette's disfigured body and Victoria's smiling face haunted her. So, instead, she searched. And when Nino came home at two am, she was ready to interrogate him. What had he found? Who was Victoria? And what about Dylan? What did Reid say? But once she was done asking her questions, she turned around only to find her boyfriend already asleep and snoring, his mouth wide open.

But now, it was her time. Adrien and Nino were casually chatting over breakfast and her boyfriend was going to answer her questions.

"Alright," she said, startling them both. "Spill."

"Well, good morning to you too, babe. Yes, I slept well, you? Oh, it was so much fun! We had a nice time making music, thanks for asking. Awn, I love you too."

"Funny. Now, spill."

"Spill what?" Adrien asked, glancing in confusion between the two of them.

Alya hesitated for the first time. She remembered his reaction yesterday and didn't want to upset him again. She knew Adrien was in a fragile state and how he coped with Marinette's death. He not only lost himself in his work but also in sex, drugs and alcohol. Gone was the sweet sunshine and innocent boy she had known in lycée.

Although she had to admit, he was doing a lot better than before. She didn't know how many times, the first few years, Nino and she had to come and pick him up in random bars, drunk and high as hell.

By day, he was doing ok. Sober, he would go to work and fight the akumas - although definitely too carelessly for her taste. He wouldn't smile much, sure, but he didn't seem that bad to anyone who didn't know him. But once the sun was gone, it was another story. He would drink and take anything in sight. Would hook up with the first girl around without a care in the world. He was a total mess.

They had tried to contact his dad, but Gabriel Agreste simply didn't care. As long as Adrien did his job well and had good grades in university, he couldn't care less. It was surprising, considering the picture-perfect image he had wanted Adrien to have during his teenage years. But apparently, bad boy Adrien was even more loved. The publicity truly was amazing for the brand. So, Adrien's friends and the kwamis were the only ones left to care and worry about him. They knew that Pagg was trying his hardest, but he didn't know what to do anymore, either. They were about to forcefully send him to rehab when something snapped.

One night, a little before ten pm, he called them in a panic. They couldn't quite understand what he was saying, but he seemed hysteric. The drive to his place, which usually took about twenty minutes, took them less than ten.

That's it, they had thought. We're about to lose him, too.

When they got in, he was sitting on the ground, crying. Plagg was hovering over him, helpless. He couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't stand drinking and smoking. He didn't want to end up like his father and be unable to function without Marinette. He needed their help. And so, they hugged him for hours. Cried with him a bit. But most importantly, they promised to be there, no matter what.

Things changed after that. Slowly, but surely. He didn't cut everything down but kept it at a normal level. He could now take a drink, smoke once in a while and hooks up without losing himself in it. He wasn't the same, would probably never be the same. But weren't all adults a little broken by life?

Nowadays, Adrien's biggest issue was his studies. He was obsessed with having perfect grades, which wasn't all that hard for him. He was well on his way to getting his MBA in a couple of weeks with straight As. Thank god he had Plagg by his side to watch over him every day and night. The kwami made sure that his chosen drink, eat, showered, breathe and live.

Alya always had this crippling fear that something would push Adrien back into his old habits. Sometimes, she could practically feel him slipping through her fingers. But she was holding on to him, and so was he. That was what family was for. But what was gonna be the breaking point? The moment where it all would come back and it would be too much for him? Would it be now? Would she be the cause? Alya didn't think she could handle it.

"I've asked Fox girl to do some research about the liar's friend," Plagg explained, folding his small arms over his chest.

He was looking at Adrien as if he was waiting for him to confront him. And he was right, as always. Adrien was immediately on guard.

"What?" he growled. "Why?"

"Because something's fishy and she's gonna find out what."

"This is -"

"True," Alya interrupted. "I've found something interesting. Or rather, it's what I didn't find that's interesting."

"What do you mean?" Nino wondered before taking another bite of his sandwich.

"Victoria Lynch is basically a ghost. She appeared online for the first time seven years ago."

"Seven years? That's… another weird coincidence, I admit," Adrien said. "But it doesn't mean anything."

"Go on, Alya," Nino said. "What else?"

Alya glanced at him. He was staring at her intensely, frowning.

"Well, from what I've found, she was in a car accident around the same time we had that fight with the Angel of Darkness. Her whole family died in the crash. Her mom, dad and little brother. There's pretty much nothing from the first few years after the accident, but Victoria then got her bachelor in arts at UCLA, with honours. I'm not sure if she's doing a master's or not… Anyway, she doesn't post much online. Mostly just the occasional pictures of her with either Dylan, Lila, Reid and a bunch of other friends. I mean, she has a professional website, but it's just paintings. She never talks about the accident or her family."

"Well, I never talk about my mom on social media," Adrien shrugged. "Not everyone wants to share their trauma with the whole world."

"That's true. Dylan, however… I've found a lot. He's from a rich family, went to those prestigious schools all his life, and is doing his master's in political science, also at UCLA, despite not having the grades for it… He's also an influencer and has a huge following on social media. He doesn't post many pictures of Victoria, but it might be her wish. He looks like he has a lot of friends, lots of famous ones too, like Reid. He's a nepo baby, that's for sure. His dad is a famous lawyer and his mom's a model. His little brother is an actor and his younger sister's a singer. The oldest one is a doctor and is much more private. Looks like she went off and did her own thing as soon as she turned eighteen."

"And what do you want us to do with this information?" Adrien wondered, picking around his plate.

"I don't know, but Victoria and Dylan's personalities look contradictory, don't they?"

"Opposites attract?"

"Maybe. A month ago, Dylan posted one of his rare pictures with Victoria, but she had her back on the camera. He said they were out for their tenth anniversary. The comments were turned off, contrary to his other posts."

"High school sweethearts? Cute."

"But it's weird," Alya insisted. "Because she basically didn't even exist then!"

"She's amnesiac," Nino suddenly divulged.

Alya and Adrien spoke at the same time. The first one with surprise and hope, the second with shock and doubt. "What?"

"I asked Reid about them. He met Dylan six years ago at some party, back before he got famous. They immediately hit it off and he met Victoria shortly after. The car accident you talked about Alya had happened only a year before that and she was still recovering. She had been in a coma for a few weeks and was then using crutches to walk. She's apparently covered in scars, although you can't see them as much nowadays. The weirdest thing, she couldn't remember anything from her past. Still can't. She just has those vague flashbacks and nightmares. But she was already friends with Lila. That's how Reid met her. Lila didn't want anything to do with him, but he eventually won her over… But yeah, anyway. Victoria's amnesiac."

No way, no way, no way…, Alya thought, her hands shaking. It didn't make any sense, and yet…

"Oh, my God…," she whispered, a hand over her mouth when Adrien suddenly stood up.

"It doesn't mean anything," he calmly stated.

She simply stared at him in shock. "What? Adrien, don't you see? What if she's…"

"It's just creepy coincidences. So what if she got into a car crash the same year Marinette died? Fun fact, lots of people died or were injured that year. No, seriously, think about your so-called facts. You have a girl that looks like Marinette who was in a car crash the same year. Ok, fine. That's weird." he admitted while putting his plate into the dishwasher, acting as if this conversation was perfectly normal. "She's amnesiac. Weird, too. But she has a boyfriend who she's been with since before the accident. Probably a bunch of other friends, too. A family. Pictures, somewhere. Do you have any idea how many people would need to lie to get away with this? And for what?"

"Well, I mean, there's for sure some pieces of the puzzle that are missing, but -"

He cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "There's not but, Alya. She's dead. Without her lucky charm… It's over. It's been over for almost a decade. You're the one who keeps reminding me that nothing's gonna bring her back, remember? No matter how much we wish we could."

Nino opened his mouth to speak, but Adrien turned his attention to Plagg instead. "Plagg, you asked her, so what do you think now? Where's Tikki? Where are the earrings? Could Marinette still be alive?"

He might have been asking questions, but it was more of an attack. He needed Plagg to say that it was ridiculous and that Alya was wrong. Needed them to understand that this whole situation was stupid.

"Tikki's dormant somewhere, that's all I know. I can't feel her anymore. She might be in the earrings, but why hasn't she come out yet? Why hasn't she found me? I don't know. And I don't know either about Pigtails. The paramedics claimed she was dead. You said so yourself, she had stopped breathing. But… I agree with Foxy over there. Something's weird. Wayzz said she was disfigured by fire, but Adrien, this wasn't her main injury and you know it. Her face was bruised, but still perfectly recognizable."

Well, this wasn't going the way Adrien had hoped.

He couldn't go down this road. Couldn't get his stupid hope up, only for it to come crashing down once reality hit. Because it would, eventually. Alya would find an aunt or a cousin somewhere. Baby pictures. Family photos. Something, anything, and they would realize that Victoria Lynch truly was just a random girl. And Marinette would still be six feet under, nothing more than bones nowadays.

No. He couldn't believe it. If he, himself, wanted to stay alive and sane, he had to shut this down immediately.

"Look," he sighed. "I get it, but I'm not with you on this. So, I'm gonna go take a shower, and after that, we can get ready and go to the museum like we planned, yeah?"

He didn't wait for their answer and left the room. The tension was heavy as all three kwamis and the two superheroes looked at each other in silence.

"He might be right, babe," Nino finally said after a moment. "Vee could simply be a girl who's looking a bit too much like Mari. It might just be a coincidence."

Alya raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?"

She waited while he stared through the window, deep in thought. And then, after a long minute, he finally whispered one simple word. One word that changed their whole life.

"No."