Chapter 37: Overlapping Memories (Part 5)

The forest near the hot springs was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees. Popuri paced in circles, her thoughts unraveling like tangled thread. This was where she always came when she needed to clear her mind, to process feelings too heavy to carry. But today, no amount of solitude could make sense of what was happening.

First, there was Pete—her neighbor, who had always been a distant presence in her life, steady and predictable. Then, seemingly overnight, he had changed. His habits, his way of speaking, even the way he carried himself—it was as if he were someone else entirely. And then there were her dreams, strange and vivid, painting a life she had never lived. A life where she and Pete had always known each other, where they had grown up together, shared memories that never existed in reality.

She stopped walking, hugging herself as a chill ran down her spine. "And now, today—Pete didn't even remember Isabella, a girl who had once meant everything to him."

Popuri groaned and pressed her hands to her face. "This is ridiculous." She was letting her imagination run wild. There had to be a logical explanation for Pete's behavior. Maybe he was just struggling with something personal—maybe that's why he had been distant before. He had apologized for it, after all. But then… why hadn't he ever explained what changed? And how did that affect his relationship with Elli?

There were too many questions, and for the first time, Popuri realized just how little she truly knew about the person Pete was and now had become.

She suddenly stopped, her fists clenched at her sides. The thoughts racing through her mind were ridiculous, she knew that, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake them. She had spent years barely giving Pete a second thought, knowing him only as the quiet farmer who kept to himself, always tethered to his land or making routine trips to the clinic. He had existed on the fringes of her world, never quite stepping into it. And yet, now… now everything was different.

Pete had changed, and she didn't know why. He had started coming around more, spending time with people he had never seemed interested in before. He was no longer just a background figure—he was there, involved, present in ways he had never been. She had let her guard down around him, let herself grow comfortable in his presence, and only now was she realizing how little she truly knew about him.

No one else seemed to notice the difference—but why would they? Pete had spent years blending into the backdrop of Mineral Town, moving with a quiet, predictable rhythm that made him easy to overlook. People only saw the version of him they'd grown used to: the polite, distant farmer who kept to himself and never asked for more than he needed.

To them, he was the same old Pete. Unchanged, unremarkable, unquestioned.

But Popuri knew better, or at least she felt something was wrong in a way she couldn't ignore. Popuri curled her fingers, her teeth grazing her lower lip. A strange unease twisted inside her, growing heavier by the second—an instinctive warning, or perhaps a revelation waiting to break free.

"Who are you, Pete?" she whispered into the still air of the hotsprings. The question trembled on her tongue, but the truth weighed even more heavily in her chest.

She wasn't sure what she would find when she finally sought the answers—whether it would be something harmless, something heartbreaking, or something impossible. But she knew one thing with absolute certainty: She would never know peace until she uncovered the truth behind the man next door, and behind the dreams that were no longer just dreams.

Later that afternoon, Popuri's mother asked her to pick up some medicine from the clinic. Grabbing a basket, she made her way to the clinic, the familiar path giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. But the moment she stepped inside, she felt something was off.

The clinic was too quiet. Usually, the air was filled with the sound of Elli and Pete chatting, their laughter brightening up the otherwise sterile atmosphere. But today, there was none of that. Elli stood behind the counter alone, absently organizing bottles on a shelf, her expression distant. The usual warmth she exuded seemed dimmed, as if something weighed on her mind.

Popuri approached the counter and requested the usual medicine for her mother. As Elli retrieved it, they exchanged casual small talk, but Popuri couldn't ignore the way Elli's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. After a brief pause, she finally asked, "Hey… is something going on with Pete?"

Elli sighed, leaning slightly against the counter. "I don't know," she admitted. "He doesn't come around as much anymore. He used to stop by all the time, even when he wasn't sick. But now…" She trailed off, a flicker of sadness crossing her face. "He hasn't invited me over in a while. I keep telling myself that maybe he just needs space, that he's dealing with something. But honestly? It feels like he's avoiding me."

Popuri frowned, gripping the handle of her basket tighter. "Pete avoiding Elli? That made no sense. For as long as I can remember, Pete had been completely devoted to her, following her around like a lost puppy. But now? He had changed. He was spending more time with everyone except Elli. Even Elli didn't understand what was going on."

Popuri thanked Elli for the medicine and stepped out of the clinic, the door closing gently behind her. The warm afternoon sunlight did nothing to ease the storm of thoughts churning inside her. Her grip tightened around the medicine bag as she walked, her mind running circles around the same impossible questions.

"Should I ask him outright? Should I mention the dreams? Should I test him—ask about old memories, small details, things only the real Pete would know?"

But each time she imagined confronting him, she faltered. The truth was painfully simple: she didn't know Pete well enough to rely on any memory test. Those first five years he'd lived next door had been little more than polite greetings around town and awkward small talk. Their lives had only begun to intertwine recently—unexpectedly, delicately, like threads drawn together by some invisible hand. Still… she had to know. Something. Anything.

By the time she reached home, her resolve had settled like a stone in her stomach.

⸻

The next morning, Popuri woke before even the roosters stirred. The sky was still a deep, velvety blue as she slipped out of bed and dressed quietly, careful not to wake her family. A determined chill ran through her as she stepped outside, the early dawn air cool against her skin.

Mineral Town was silent—peaceful in a way that felt almost unreal, as though the world itself were holding its breath. Popuri walked briskly toward Pete's farm, her shoes whispering against the dirt path. When she reached the fence, she ducked into a thick patch of bushes, settling into a spot where the leaves framed a perfect view of the house, barn, and fields.

She hugged her knees, peering through the foliage. If Pete wasn't who he claimed to be— If he truly was the man from her dreams rather than the one she'd known for years— then sooner or later, she would catch him slipping. A word. A habit. A glance that didn't belong to this life.

Popuri took a slow breath, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and anticipation. "Alright, Pete…" she whispered to herself. "Let's see who you really are."

At precisely 6:00 AM, his rooster let out a loud crow, signaling the start of the day. An hour later, Pete finally emerged from his house, stretching before getting to work.

Popuri watched intently, her breath held as she waited for something—a sign, a clue, anything suspicious. But as the hours passed, all she saw was a hardworking farmer tending to his land. He watered his crops, checked on his animals, and went about his chores like he had done every other day. Nothing about his behavior seemed out of the ordinary.

By noon, Pete disappeared into his house. Popuri, cramped behind her hiding spot and covered in flecks of dirt and crushed leaves, waited anxiously. When he finally emerged again, he was freshly washed, dressed in clean clothes, and locking the door behind him with a purposeful click.

He wasn't going to the clinic. She could tell immediately, his steps didn't aim for the familiar road leading to town. Instead, he headed into yhe side road, the same one leading through her house and the Yodel Ranch.

Popuri followed at a careful distance, weaving through alleyways, slipping behind fences, ducking behind crates whenever he so much as rolled a shoulder. Her heart thundered the entire time, a rhythm of nerves and determination. She expected him to head straight to someone specific, to slip, to reveal something. But instead… He wandered, helping people.

The first person to stop him was Barley, the elderly Yodel Ranch owner, who looked as though he'd just been offered a miracle. "Pete, do you have a moment?" Barley called, waving an arm stiffened by age.

Pete smiled warmly, without hesitation. "Of course. What do you need?"

Popuri crouched lower behind the fence as Pete followed Barley into the pasture. For the next half hour, she watched him refill feeding troughs, guide cows and sheep across the paddock, and even help move a stubborn lamb who refused to cooperate. He worked with a calm patience, never raising his voice, never losing his composure.

When it was done, Barley clapped him on the shoulder with genuine gratitude. "Thank you, son."

Pete just laughed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anytime, Barley."

Popuri pressed a hand to her racing heart. This wasn't what she expected to find. It wasn't what she wanted to find. He wasn't acting suspicious. He wasn't slipping. He was just… any other person. And yet, still not the Pete everyone expected.

"This isn't right," she muttered under her breath. "The Pete I knew never helped people like this. He barely even talked to anyone."

Her worry only deepened when Pete's next stop was the church. Pastor Carter stood outside, frowning at the steps with clear concern. When he spotted Pete, his entire face brightened.

"Pete! Do you have a moment?"

"Sure," Pete replied easily. "What's up?"

"The steps are becoming unsafe," Carter said, tapping a loose board with his foot. "I worry someone might get hurt. Could you help me reinforce them?"

Pete nodded instantly. "Of course. Show me what needs fixing."

Popuri's brows knit together as she watched from behind a tree, her fingers gripping the bark. Pete didn't hesitate, not even for a heartbeat. He fetched tools, knelt down, and started repairing the steps as if he'd done this every week of his life. Nails fell into place, boards were replaced, and within minutes he had established a smoother rhythm than even Gotz himself.

Popuri swallowed hard. "This doesn't make sense," she whispered, shifting her weight. "The Pete I live next to never volunteered for anything." Her mind wandered back to her memories—five years of quiet greetings, infrequent visits, and distant politeness. Pete had always split his days between the farm and the clinic, barely acknowledging the rest of the town. He never lingered, never offered help unless someone asked directly. Even then, he was stiff and awkward about it. So why was he suddenly everywhere? Why was he suddenly kind and thoughtful, like he was making up for lost time?

Popuri hugged her knees against her chest, the unease in her stomach twisting into something colder. "Who are you?" she murmured. "And what did you do with the Pete I knew?... Or didn't know?"

Though strange, his actions weren't exactly suspicious. If anything, he was finally doing what everyone had wanted him to do all along; contributing to the town, making an effort to connect with people. By all accounts, his explanation about wanting to be more involved seemed valid.

"And yet," she said to herself. "Why doesn't Elli know about any of this?"

Popuri looks away and continues to process what she is watching. "If Pete had truly decided to change, wouldn't he have discussed this with the person he is dating? Wouldn't he have at least mentioned it to Elli, the one person he had always prioritized before?"

Popuri chewed her lip, watching as Pete wiped the sweat from his brow before returning the tools to Pastor Carter with a friendly smile. Something still wasn't adding up, and she wants to get to the botton of it.

The next stop on Pete's route was the clinic. For the first time all day, Popuri released a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.

"Finally," she murmured to herself, "something normal."

She crept closer, steps soft against the cobblestone, and eased up to the window. Pressing her cheek lightly against the warm glass, she peered inside. There he was. Pete stood at the counter, smiling politely as he spoke with Elli. From a distance, their conversation seemed warm enough—pleasant, easy, the kind of exchange two close friends might share.

But Popuri felt the difference immediately. Something in the space between them had changed. They spoke, yes… but there were gaps in their words. Empty spaces where laughter used to be. Pete didn't lean on the counter with that familiar playful ease. He didn't tease her. He didn't look at Elli with that old softness, the look that once said she was his gravity, his anchor. This wasn't the Pete who practically lived here.

Their conversation lasted only a few minutes. Short. Polite. Almost… formal. Then he nodded, offered a final smile, and turned to leave.

Popuri checked the clock. Fifteen minutes, when once he would spend entire afternoons here, talking with Elli until the sun dipped behind the mountain and Doctor Trent had to come to remind them the clinic was closed.

Pete walked out the clinic and Popuri had to hide. She flattened herself against the wall as Pete walked past, holding her breath until his footsteps grew faint. Only when he disappeared around the corner did she risk peeking inside again.

Elli still stood behind the counter, but the smile was gone. Popuri's chest tightened at the sight. She could see everything; Elli's downcast gaze, the small frown tugging at her lips, the weary slump of her shoulders as she slowly returned to organizing her papers.

"She's lonely," Popuri whispered.

To her, Elli and Pete had always been inseparable, bound together by something unspoken and tender. Anyone who lived in Mineral Town could see it. Pete brought Elli warmth, and Elli gave Pete a place to rest his heart.

But now… Pete wandered the town, offering help to everyone but her. Elli stayed in the clinic as always, waiting for a man who no longer lingered at her side. Watching that invisible thread between them grow thinner and thinner.

Popuri couldn't understand it—how Pete, of all people, could be so utterly blind to Elli's pain. For years, Elli had been his whole world. He used to hover around her like a loyal puppy, always ready to fetch something, fix something, or simply sit beside her while she worked. The clinic had been more than a building to him. It had been a refuge. A second home. A place where his smile came easily and his eyes softened. Now he drifted in and out of it like a stranger running errands.

He didn't linger.

He didn't laugh.

He didn't look at Elli the way he once had.

He passed through the clinic the way one checks items off a list—quick, efficient, detached. As if he wasn't visiting Elli at all, but fulfilling some small obligation he barely remembered agreeing to.

Popuri pressed her back against the wall of the clinic, chewing anxiously on her lower lip. "Had something happened between them? Some argument whispered behind closed doors? A falling-out everyone hadn't heard about?"

Elli wasn't the type to hide heartbreak well, and Pete—well, Pete had once worn his affection like a lantern. Bright enough for everyone to see. Popuri told herself it wasn't her business. Elli and Pete's relationship—whatever it was, whatever it had been—wasn't something she had any right to meddle in.

And yet… Pete's sudden distance, the hollow politeness in his voice, the way he walked around Elli as if stepping through fog—it all felt wrong. Wrong in a way that went deeper than drifting feelings or quiet misunderstandings. It was as if he didn't even realize anything had changed. As if the history between them wasn't his to remember.

Popuri hugged her arms tightly around herself, a chill crawling under her skin. He wasn't seeing anyone else. She knew that much. But still… something was missing. Something vital.

And the most troubling thought of all pressed against her heart like a weight: Did she have any right to intervene? To pry deeper into a mystery that wasn't hers?

But if she didn't… who would?