Part 1-3
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— Read, Hayley, — Miss Watson commanded in a cold voice, pointing at the book. — If you can’t answer the question, then continue reading.
The class chuckled softly. Harvey could hear the laughter, but it felt distant, as though muffled by cotton. He glanced at the book again and read the next lines:
"Today I saw Tommy flirting with Caitlyn. Why does he always have to look at other girls when he has me? I can’t stop thinking about how he touched her hand. I feel the jealousy boiling inside me. Why do I put up with this? Why can’t I let him go?"
Each word hit Harvey like a blow to the chest. At first, he tried to read the text with detachment, but something inside him started to shift. He felt jealousy creeping into his mind, as if these were his own feelings. Breathing became harder, and a surge of anger flared up at the mere thought of Tommy touching someone else.
To his horror, the jealousy within him grew stronger, sharper like a knife, and he couldn’t shake it off. 'These aren’t my feelings!' — Harvey tried to convince himself, but the gnawing sense of jealousy only intensified, becoming almost physically overwhelming.
He stopped abruptly, closing the book mid-sentence. He needed to regain control, any control over himself and the situation. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at Miss Watson.
— I can’t read anymore, — his voice was barely audible, but it carried the weight of an internal struggle.
— What kind of behavior is this, Hayley? — Miss Watson’s disappointment was clear, but noticing how distressed "Hayley" seemed, she added, — Sit down, Donovan. We’ll talk after class.
But Harvey barely heard her. As he sat down, he clasped his head in his hands. Thoughts of Tommy filled his mind. Why was he suddenly so jealous of him? Why did everything feel so real? His mind was flooded with memories of Tommy—memories that couldn’t be his but now felt like they were a part of him.
'Damn it... what’s happening to me?' — Harvey thought, feeling a strange attachment to Tommy sink deeper into his consciousness. He tried to push the feelings away, desperately trying to focus on something else. But every thought inevitably circled back to how Tommy had held him in the hallway, how his hands had gripped his waist, how that closeness had made his heart tremble.
'No... I can’t... I’m a detective. I have to... stay in control.'
But everything inside him was becoming hazier by the moment.
The day at school dragged on like a fog for Harvey—or, as everyone around him now called him, Hayley. He tried to focus on the lessons, but with each passing minute, foreign thoughts and emotions surged inside him, feelings that didn’t belong to him. Harvey clung desperately to his sense of self, but every time he caught sight of Tommy or heard his voice somewhere nearby, a familiar yet alien fire burned in his chest.
'These aren’t my feelings... These aren’t my memories...' — Harvey repeated to himself, but with each passing moment, it became harder to deny. He caught himself thinking about Tommy more and more, yearning to see him, and at the same time, he understood how insane it all was, which only drove him deeper into madness.
When the school day finally ended, Harvey, exhausted from the constant internal battle, knew he had to contact the one he was tracking. Hiding was useless now—Preston had clearly orchestrated all of this. Harvey had been warned that this case wouldn’t be easy, but he hadn’t expected this. He was now starting to believe that Preston really was some kind of magician, though just that morning it had seemed like utter nonsense to him.