Birds chirped around the perimeter of the neighborhood, oblivious of the chaos unfolding beneath them. They watched the people with beady eyes, like silent observers, and occasionally tweeted among themselves as if discussing why so many humans were gathered together in one place.

While Ann, now Rayan, was inspecting the familiar body of hers, Byron went around the room and took a few more pictures. He stopped in front of the balcony, opened the glass door, and stepped out. 

The balcony was clean, as clean as any balcony could be, and was completely empty. It was overlooking the neighborhood street, where tall trees stood at a few intervals. As he looked down, he saw a cluster of crowds, mostly the residents of the building and the neighbourhood, scattered around. Some were gossiping with each other, some were being questioned by cops, and some just stood silently, watching everything with mild interest. There were even some children running around with their parents running after them.

Byron entered the bedroom and closed the balcony door. He stared at it for a moment, inspecting the door from different angles, looked through the beige curtains, and reached the following conclusion.

“The bullet must have come through the balcony.”

At his muttering, Ann looked up and glanced at the balcony. She had long stopped snooping around her own corpse and left the job to the female cop, whose name she found was Carla when she asked, and was just staring at the blue eyes of the corpse that once belonged to her. The vibrant color of the eyes were long gone, and now they looked glassy, like a doll’s. She reached out and closed the half-closed eyes.

A sharp pain, almost like a stroke, broke through her now broad chest. She still couldn’t believe she had died just like that, no idea who killed her and for what reason. Staring at the face that she once called hers with its eyes closed, as if she were just sleeping, she sighed and stood up.

The female cop, Carla, stared up at her as soon as she stood up. She had a hesitant look on her face, perhaps unsure whether she should also get up. Ann cleared her throat and spoke.

“Uh, you did a good job. You can go now.”

Carla nodded, almost in relief, and stood up. She awkwardly shifted her foot for a while before opening her mouth.

“Should I call the cleaners?”

“Yeah, call ‘em and tell ‘em to pack the body for autopsy.”

Byron answered instead of Ann, who was still trying to remember who the cleaners were, as he opened and closed the balcony door multiple times. Carla nodded, then politely bowed to them and left to call the cleaners.

Ann sent one hesitating look at her previous body now a corpse and approached Byron.

“What do you mean the bullet must have come through the balcony?”

Byron stared at him for a moment, he almost looked shocked with a look that seemed to question her. Ann could only smile in response and look away. She was just an ordinary person the day before, suddenly inspecting a murder site and looking at her own corpse wasn’t something she saw or dealt with everyday. Not to mention, she didn’t have the ability to reach a conclusion just by taking one look at a problem, unlike cops and investigators who are taught to do so.

Byron looked at her skeptically for a moment, stopped his inspection and stared outside. He pointed at the trees lining along the sidewalk and spoke.

“If my calculations are correct, those trees over ‘ere look to be about 20 meters away from the building. If we add the range of the sidewalk…..”

He pointed at the sidewalk right below the balcony.

“And the balcony, then the total distance will be around 40-45 meters. Now look at the body.”

This time, he pointed at the corpse that was being wrapped up in a plastic bag by three cops, one of whom was Carla.

“She fell backwards, right? Her body is tilting a bit to the left but overall is facin’ the balcony. The bullet must have flown through the balcony like this.”

His hand showed a flying motion as he continued.

“And hit her straight to the head. The impact killed her on the spot and threw her body backward.”

Ann slowly nodded, admiring his analysing. To think that he could conclude so much just from a simple observation was really admirable. But the problem is, she still couldn’t remember how or when she was even shot. As far as she could remember, she was sleeping on her comfortable bed. Then what was her body doing lying on the floor?

“All we gotta know is which gun was used to kill her.”

Byron said as he stared at her intently, as if he was waiting for a big secret to be revealed. Ann only nodded in response and stayed mute. She had seen in many TV dramas that finding the murder weapon is the most crucial part of a case. Once a murder weapon is found, half of the case is solved. As for how, she had no clue.

“Why don’t you-”

“Mr. Detective?”

Just as Byron opened his mouth and was about to ask something, someone intervened. When Ann looked over, it was Carla calling out to her. Behind her, the body was long gone, and even the blood was wiped away. Ann was a bit surprised at their efficiency. In just a few minutes, they have already taken her body away and even cleaned up the mess on the floor. Before she could muse further, Byron patted her arm and spoke.

“Let’s get goin’ now, buddy. We’ve gotta a lot of work to do.”

Byron nodded at Carla, motioning her to leave. Carla bowed back and left the room with a few other cops peeking through the doors. He patted Ann’s arm again, who suppressed a sigh and followed him out of the door.

Not before throwing one last look at the room, her room.

***

“Ya know, I’m wondering who could have murdered her. She used to live alone so it can be anyone.”

As they were leaving the entrance of the apartment building, Byron said to Ann as if discussing with her. Ann only nodded back, thinking she was also wondering the same thing. But Byron’s next words stopped her feet crossing the threshold.

“The top in my suspect list are her family members, obviously. And then–”

“You’re suspecting her family?”

Ann blurted out before she could stop herself. It was only when she saw the look on Byron’s face that seemed to say ‘Isn’t it normal?’ that she realized what she had just said. She is now a detective, a freaking detective. It’s in her nature to suspect anyone who’s related to the victim. Even if the idea of her family killing her was far-fetched from her perspective….. she had to remember she wasn’t Ann Mackenzie anymore but Rayan Lancel, someone with no connection to her or her family.

“Why? Ya don’?

“I mean…. I do.”

Ann resisted the urge to gulp as she continued.

“But I heard from her neighbours that she had a good relationship with her family. Her mom, especially, would come to visit her every weekend. Her older siblings will also come visit her sometimes.”

That was a lie. It was true that Ann’s family loved her immensely, and also that her parents and siblings would often come to visit her. In fact, as the youngest of the family and raised like a pearl held in their palm, they were against the idea of her living alone. It was the fact that she, Rayan Lancel, heard from her neighbours was a pure white lie. 

Byron tilted his head at the new information with a thoughtful look. Soon, he broke into a smile and slapped Ann’s arms.

“You already got so much information about the victim just seeing her corpse. No wonder you’re the best!”

‘Yeah, whatever floats your boat…..’

Ann could only awkwardly smile and accept the compliment.

“Let’s get goin. We gotta hurry before that bastard comes to chew our ears again.”

Byron resumed walking with Ann- Rayan following behind. Soon they reached a police van parked beside the street which was a bit further away from other vehicles perked around. Ann looked up at the balcony, where she often used to enjoy drinking tea when she was Ann Mackenzie, and finally let out the sigh she was holding. 

The sky was unusually blue today, with a gentle breeze blowing occasionally, tree leaves swaying like enthusiastic children waving at the people, and birds chirping as if tuning with the beauty of nature. Such a beautiful day, but she felt gloomy all over, like she just received a group assignment with pig teammates. With a depressed heart and soul, she turned forward and got into the police van.

As soon as they strapped the seatbelts on, Byron turned to her and started rapid firing questions.

“Now, ‘ere’s no one around so spill. What the hell happened to ya? Why do ya look like you lent your brain to someone else? That’s also without any rent?”

Ann froze at the sudden wave of questions. She thought Byron didn’t notice her anomaly but it seemed he did. He was just being quiet to finish the job quickly and to avoid raising suspicion. Now that no one was around and they were heading to who knew where, he started interrogating.

“Nothing.”

Ann replied curtly, trying to sound calm. But Byron only scoffed and repeated her.

“Nothin? Buddy I’m yer best friend for 8 years, 8! Do ya think I wouldn’ notice you behavin’ strangely?”

‘So he’s my, I mean, Rayan Lancel’s best friend.’

Ann nodded inwardly, digesting the new information. She remembered all the TV dramas she had seen previously and pretended to act cool as she replied.

“I was just….. surprised. That’s it.”

Byron squinted at her, as if trying to see through her lies. He stared at her like this for a few moments then let out a sigh. Starting the ignition, he spoke.

“Did her death really shock ya that much? Ya were pretendin’ to be so aloof yesterday night.”

Ann’s ears perked up at that. So while she was being killed, this body, Rayan Lancel was with his best friend talking about….. her? Ann wasn’t sure if her hypothesis was correct. Trying to dig more information, she replied.

“I’m not sure what you mean….”

“Bruh, ya almost punched me because I teased you havin’ a thing for her. What are ya not sure about?”

‘What?’

Ann’s eyes, now a dull shade of brown, widened at the information. She quickly composed herself and showed a thoughtful look. It wasn’t like she had never been confessed to before. Like any other beautiful girl, she also had a few suitors every once in a while. However, as long as she could remember, she had never met anyone called Rayan Lancel. Granted it was impossible for her to remember every person’s name and face, like her classmates whom she never talked to or colleagues whom she had minimal interaction with. But she would definitely remember someone like him, given his unique profession and reputation. But forget about remembering, she has no recollection of ever meeting anyone with this name.

‘No.’ Ann shook her head. ‘This body is more familiar to me than unfamiliar. Is it because of instincts? But this familiarity isn’t coming from this body but rather…. from me. My soul.’

Questions swirled in her mind. If this body liked her previous self, why didn’t he approach her? Did he know about her enemy? If he was aware or even suspicious that her life was in danger, why didn’t he let her know? Why was he hiding it from her? Why didn’t he try to save her? And why the hell was she, out of so many people in the world, entered this body specifically?

Ann was so deep in thought that she didn’t hear Byron calling her. It was only when Byron patted her shoulder that she came back to her senses.

“Bro, are ya listenin’? What the hell are ya thinkin’?”

“Nothing. What’s wrong?”

“I was askin’ if yer up for breakfast. I’m starvin’.”

At the mention of breakfast, Ann started to feel a bit hungry too. She nodded and told him she was up for it. Byron smiled at the response.

“Great! Let’s get our usual.”

‘I don’t even know what our usual is but whatever……’

While Byron chatted about this and that and drove the car, Ann looked out the car window, trying to sort out her messy thoughts.

***

The place they arrived for breakfast was a fastfood shop. Byron got out of the car and went to get their ‘usual’. Ann simply closed her eyes and began thinking again.

‘Okay, let’s sort the information I have so far. I’m now Rayan Lancel, who’s supposedly a famous detective of this empire. Shockingly, he knew my previous self, which is now dead. Killer. Unknown. Motive. Unknown. Witness? None. Anyone knew? Yes. This body. But for some reason only he knows, he didn’t tell me.’

Ann pondered on the information. There were many hows and whys in her questions, but no one to answer for her. She could remember every detail of her life as Ann Mackenzie. Like her fifth birthday when she got a toddler’s bicycle from her father, or when she fell into the lake after her sixth birthday. She could also remember the first confession she received at the age of ten from one of her neighbors’ boys, which her dad personally rejected instead to the boy’s father. Every family outing during an occasion, every summer festival or winter farewell, every celebration of her and her siblings’ achievement. But for the oddest of reasons, she couldn’t remember how she died no matter how much she dug into her memories.

‘Ugh, my head hurts.’

Ann held her pounding head. All this question was making her head hurt, but she forced the pain away and continued to ponder.

‘Judging by the fact that this guy, a detective, knew me, he must also know who could be the killer. Should I search through that journal? Criminal records, was it? That thing seems to hold a lot of information about criminals….. oh, wait. I was not a criminal then why would he even write about me on that. Maybe he has a personal journal or something? I gotta search for it as soon as I get back.’

“Here’s your breakfast!”

Ann was brought back from her reverie at Byron’s cheerful call. The guy entered the car and held up a paper bag at him. She took the bag and peered inside, and almost facepalmed at the contents.

‘Black coffee….. seriously, I should have known. A famous hardcore detective with a secret crush and a tendency to play it cool will definitely, DEFINITELY, drink black coffee.’

Apart from black coffee, the bag also held a pair of sandwiches, which by smell she concluded was chicken.

Ann looked beside her. Byron was heartily munching on his second doughnut as he slipped his Espresso. He gulped down another mouthful of coffee and started the ignition.

‘Typical….’

Resisting the urge to sigh, Ann picked up one sandwich and tentatively took a bite. Surprisingly, it tasted better than she expected, and unsurprisingly, it was too soft to her liking. But thinking not having her ‘usual’ could make her appear suspicious, she continued to chew.

As she drank her black coffee, albeit unwillingly, and chewed on the sandwiches, Byron sped off to their destination, which she could only think of is the police headquarters.