Chapter 1: Journey to Unravel Memories

Summary:

Fern Sunan Ariyasakul has always known that she was adopted. She was kidnapped at 5 years old and lost her memories. The only thing she can remember is the name P'Nix.

Come Back Home - A journey of recovering lost memories and finding the past.

Notes:

This is a work of Fiction. I do not own the characters. Any similarities to real persons and events are unintentional. Enjoy!

"Are you sure about this, Fern?" Krit wrapped his arms around his daughter, their bond steady in the midst of uncertainty. The room felt still, as though it understood the importance of Fern's decision—balanced between hope and forgotten memories.

"Yes, Pa. I think it's time." Fern smiled, a mix of confidence and warmth in her expression. She had always known she was adopted, her life reshaped by Krit when he was still a police officer. He had found her, small and drugged, in a dim warehouse. When she woke up, her past was a blank, except for one name: P'Nix. A name whispered by shadows, connecting her to a past she couldn't remember.

"You'll call me every day, right?" Sin, her other guardian, stepped forward, eyes glistening with tears. He loaded her bags into the car, each item part of the journey she was about to take. "Or just stop by Sorn's restaurant. I'm there most of the time." Sin's love showed in practical ways—tea shared at a familiar booth, the promise of stories told over meals.

"I will, Hia. And please say goodbye to Pharm and the others for me?" Fern's voice softened with gratitude for the family she had found, mixed with the longing for the memories she was seeking. She thought of Pharm and the others, their laughter filling the home she was leaving behind.

Sin nodded, holding back his emotions. He hugged her tightly, as if trying to leave a part of himself with her. With a kiss for luck and courage, Fern climbed into the car. The engine started, and she drove off, leaving behind the safety she knew. Her determination was like a compass, pointing her toward the pieces of her forgotten past.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Kinn?" Porche's voice was quiet as he sat in their daughter's room, a space frozen in time. Kinn found him there, surrounded by the echoes of memories.

"Are you okay, love?" Kinn asked, stepping closer. But Porche was lost in the past, his hand tracing forgotten toys.

"Fourteen years," Porche whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek. "It's been fourteen years since our baby girl was taken, Kinn." His voice shook, weighed down by the passing years. Every year, this day returned to them—an anniversary of sorrow, not celebration.

Kinn sat beside him, pulling him close. Together, they carried the grief. This day was a wound that never healed, a reminder of the call that shattered their world and took Plum away.

"Do you think she's still alive? Eating well? Studying?" Porche's voice cracked as he imagined a life they hadn't been part of, moments they had missed.

Their eldest son, Prapai, appeared at the door, his eyes red from crying. "I'm sorry, Pa," he whispered, as if the burden of the years rested on him alone.

"No, baby. No." Porche pulled him into a hug. "It wasn't your fault." His son's presence was a reminder that even in loss, they still had each other.

"But I was with her," Prapai's voice broke as sobs shook his body. "I should've done something."

Kinn stepped in, his voice firm but gentle. "Phoenix," he said, using Prapai's full name. "You were only ten. If anyone's to blame, it's me, for taking you both out without protection."

There was no blame in Kinn's voice, only understanding.

Porche wiped his tears and smiled—a small, hopeful smile. "No more blame, okay?" His eyes moved between his husband and son. "We'll find her one day. I know it." The room seemed to echo the promise, hope flickering in the silence.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

"Good morning, P'Payu! P'Pai!" Rain's cheerful voice filled the room as he and Sky joined them at the table. Their presence brought warmth to the heavy air.

"P'Pai?" Sky's brow furrowed with concern as he looked at Prapai. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sky." Prapai pulled him close, finding comfort in his presence. "As long as you're here." His words were full of love and vulnerability, shaped by the storms they had weathered together.

"Did Uncle Porche stay in her room again?" Payu asked, his voice soft with concern.

"Yeah," Prapai sighed. "It's been fourteen years since it happened." The anniversary of their sister's disappearance weighed on them all. "Pa still hopes we'll find her."

Rain looked puzzled. "Who are you talking about, Phi?" His question was filled with innocent curiosity, unaware of the missing piece in their family.

"Plum. My sister." Prapai's voice shook slightly, but his determination was clear. Plum—the sister they had lost, the name whispered in dreams, the absence felt in every part of their lives.