Chapter 6: One Last Door Code

I hesitated, then told my agent, “I want to go somewhere.”

Rain meant traffic. It took an hour to reach the riverfront condo. My agent stared up at the building, swallowing hard. “You really going to find someone, huh?”

I got out. “Go home, don’t wait for me.”

“No way. What if—” She was still worried.

“It’s fine,” I smiled. “He might hit on anyone, but with me—absolutely not.”

I’d been here once, at sixteen. Another stormy night. I’d walked over ten miles with an umbrella to find Harrison. He’d moved out for the summer, fighting with our parents. As the heir, he was always under pressure to be perfect—no mistakes allowed. So, while he was away for exams, his father gave away the only calico cat his grandma had left him. Because he liked it too much, it had to go. In the Caldwell family, liking something was a sin.

When I found him, half my clothes were soaked. He handed me a towel but wouldn’t let me in, wary. “You here to drag me home too?”

I shook my head. “Harrison, can I stay with you?”

Wherever Harrison was, that was home. Because of that one question, he moved back. Everyone wondered how I convinced him when no one else could. Harrison never said, and no one dared ask. But I knew—he just wanted to give me a real home, like other kids.

After all these years, I still remembered the door code. But the face in the reflection was Jenna’s. I rang the bell, but no answer. Maybe he didn’t live here anymore. Maybe he and Autumn had moved to a new place—the home I used to dream about.

Footsteps echoed by the elevator, snapping me out of it.

“The hospital confirmed Miss Caldwell’s blood type and DNA match previous records. You check every year—still want to check again this year?” his assistant asked as they approached. My legs were numb from crouching so long; I stumbled and hit the ground.

Harrison looked down at me, not even surprised—just colder, more imposing in the dusk.

“Go home,” he told his assistant, then brushed past me to unlock the door. He left me outside.

I pressed the code. The door code hadn’t changed since I set it at sixteen. I walked in, and his eyes flickered in surprise.

“Is this how people try to climb now?” He leaned in the foyer, tugging at his black tie, voice mocking. “Not afraid to die?”

He thought I was stalking him for resources, knowing his address and code so well.

“I want to act in that movie,” I said, cutting to the chase. “You said I got the role better than anyone else.”

He went to the bar, not looking at me.

“I can audition again. Please, Mr. Caldwell, give me a chance.”

“Mr. Caldwell?” He echoed, half-smiling. He poured whiskey, amber light swirling in the dim room. Outside, the sunset had faded away.

“You do get it, but you’re not right for it,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because you love the brother too much.”

My heart squeezed tight.

He continued, “The sister in the script doesn’t love her brother that much, so she runs off with her lover. And the brother doesn’t love her that much either, so he takes her by force just to vent his anger. They do it for the taboo, for the thrill of breaking the rules.”

He knocked back his drink, laughing coldly. “What’s that supposed to be?”

He sat on the barstool, top two buttons undone, shrouded in a drunken haze.

“How could a real brother ever destroy her?” He laughed again, drinking more, gripping the glass tight—far from sober. His eyes were red, voice dangerously calm. “My love for her goes deeper than flesh. I’d never hurt her just because I was angry.”

“But my ‘doing nothing’ made her disappear.” His tone was self-destructive. “It’s all my fault. I couldn’t protect anything.”

What was Harrison saying? Had he figured something out?

“Harrison.” My hands shook as I steadied his glass. “It’s me, I’m Autumn.”

“The system changed my identity,” I said, voice trembling, trying not to sound desperate. “Because I failed the mission, it gave my body to someone else and made me look completely different. I’ve tried to find you, but something always stopped me...”

I couldn’t go on. His expression was strange—no surprise, no doubt. Just calm, like he’d already figured out the whole plot. Did he not believe me?

“Done?” He pulled his hand away, face unreadable. “Want me to finish the story for you?”

“The system gave you an entertainment industry identity, had you struggle from the bottom, always waiting to meet me—am I right, dear sister?”

I was stunned, speechless.

“You’re not the first,” he said, setting down the glass. “Before you, the system sent someone else.”

I was too shocked to speak. I’d pictured a hundred ways he might react, but never that the system would get there first.

“What did your system tell you about me and Autumn?” His eyes were bottomless. “I can tell you the whole story.”

“July 26th was the day my sister disappeared. I didn’t understand it—just left the room, came back, and she was a different person. At first, I thought it was just me. I asked her about our past, and she got every detail right. But I still felt something was off. I checked her blood type, DNA—everything. All the evidence said she was Autumn.”

His voice was eerily calm, but his eyes were full of pain.

“But I still didn’t believe it. People said I was crazy, and maybe I was—stuck in that rainy night, never able to find her again.”

“Then I noticed the fake wasn’t allergic to chicken. Because Autumn wasn’t really allergic—she was emotionally allergic. As a kid, she’d been sent back to the system for being picky, so chicken made her so anxious she broke out in hives. The fake never had that fear.”

“I knew she wasn’t Autumn, and remembered Autumn mentioning a ‘system.’ So I thought, if I did everything the system wanted, maybe they’d give my sister back.”

“But they never did.” His face hardened. “All these years, whenever they sensed my doubt, they’d send in someone who looked completely different, claiming to be my sister, talking about systems and replacements—just like you.”

“But none of you are my sister.”

Turns out, the system had sent someone before me, primed to say everything I would say, so even if I told the truth now, he’d never believe me.

Rain lashed the balcony’s potted palm outside. Thunder rumbled. He looked drained, like telling all this had emptied him.

“Didn’t you want to audition?” he sneered. “Go ahead—do whatever the system wants.”

“I’m not acting.”

He stood up and walked to the door. “Fine. If you won’t act, then get out.”

He was convinced I was just another system plant. Nothing I said would change his mind. This wasn’t the time to explain. I walked to the door, passing him, hand on the knob. Suddenly, I remembered that stormy night at sixteen, standing in this same foyer. He’d worried about me wandering alone in the rain. “What if you get lost?”

“You’ll always find me, Harrison.”

“I’m not omnipotent,” he said, toweling my hair. “If you got lost because of me, I’d break down before I found you.”

“That’s okay,” I smiled then. “I’d always find you, too.”

I closed the door, shutting out the memories, facing his guarded expression.

“What trick are you playing now—”

I grabbed his tie, pulling him down. His cedar scent surrounded me as I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. The palm tree swayed outside. I finally did what I’d always wanted but never dared. Turns out, he loved me too—long before I loved him.

He let me do as I pleased, but didn’t react at all.

“That’s it?” he asked coldly. “Keep going.”

I reached for his tie, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. He grabbed my wrist, stopping me.

“You’ve learned well—just like her, only good at unbuttoning shirts.” He flung my hand away. “They trained you well—better than the fake.”

“Harrison, I—”

“Don’t call me that.” He said, “Go. You’ll get your role.”

“I didn’t do the acid thing.”

“I know.” His eyes flashed. “I’m not stupid enough to fall for such a clumsy setup.”