Adam crept through the hedges, heart thundering against his ribs. Shadows danced across his face as he slipped past a statue, glancing nervously at the ornate doors ahead. He felt a thrill of triumph—until a sharp flashlight beam caught him square in the eyes.
Dean Marissa Caldwell, stern and composed, strode forward, flanked by two vigilant security officers.
"You do realize you're trespassing, don't you? This is a women’s college,"
"Wait—I can explain!" Adam started, but strong hands seized his arms, forcing him toward the main building.
Adam struggled but was ushered through double doors into the medical ward. The linoleum floor squeaked beneath hurried footsteps, and the white sheets on the beds glowed ghostly in the overhead lights.
Dr. Evelyn Rousseau, a woman in a crisp lab coat with shrewd, assessing eyes, awaited them beside a gleaming tray of instruments.
"He was found on the south lawn, doctor,"
"Leave him to me. Thank you, Dean," Dr. Rousseau replied, her tone icy with resolve.
Adam’s protests faded as a strange, sweet-smelling vapor filled the air.
Adam’s vision blurred, heat rushing through his limbs. He felt his body contort and shrink, bones tingling as memories fluttered away like autumn leaves. The world seemed to swell around him; the cold sheets pressed against his now-tiny frame.
Dr. Rousseau leaned over, her face softening with an almost maternal smile.
"You’ll be safe here, little one. And you’ll call me Mommy from now on," she whispered.
Adam tried to speak, but his voice emerged as a high, uncertain peep.
Adam blinked blearily, realizing his hands were small, his dress frilly and pink. The strange urge to giggle bubbled up, and she—now a little girl—found herself hugging a plush bear.
Cute thoughts of tea parties and fairy wings crowded her mind, and she giggled, forgetting the complex adult worries she once carried.
Dr. Rousseau appeared at her bedside, gentle and reassuring.
"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"
Adam—now Addie—nodded shyly, feeling an odd mix of confusion and comfort.
Addie played with blocks, her memories of manhood drifting further away, though a faint echo lingered.
Each time she tried to recall her old life, a wave of sweetness and innocence swept in, overwhelming the thoughts.
Dr. Rousseau knelt beside her, offering a gentle embrace.
"Mommy," she whispered, the word feeling natural and right—despite the oddness at its core.
Addie built castles from blocks, her mind filled only with the present moment and the joy of discovery. She giggled, twirling in her dress, no longer burdened by memories of adulthood.
Dr. Rousseau watched, her eyes gentle and proud.
In this sheltered world, Addie found happiness, her past self a distant, fading dream.
