Dear Mom,

My new friends in this group warned me in secret to keep a record of everything, just in case my memories would start to deceive me. They said their memories were like children's jigsaw puzzles, and there were gaps and parts that did not fit.

They do not know that my memory has been lost to the point that only my identity as Emma Woods remains. Even the part of it labeled as "Mom and Dad" is empty. I have no reason to worry if the new pieces fit, or if my parents will vanish when I open my eyes in the morning... Though I remember nothing, I miss you terribly, Mother.

I cannot imagine your appearance, nor can I record the moments of the past, it is just my body that constantly whispers: "Write a letter to Mom, like every night once upon a time, and trust the wind to carry it to the stars." Sometime I wonder why I never choose to write to Dad. The word "Dad" feels even more distant to me, but that sentiment has changed lately.Remember the game I mentioned the other day? Yes, I've won the previous round, for now, but it fills me with sadness. Instead of fear, what I felt from that weirdo in the game was familiarity and sorrow that I still cannot overcome even to this day.

At the final moments of the game, as I escaped from that factory covered in thick fog, I think I heard that weirdo struggling to speak a name that was unfamiliar to me — Lisa. Lisa, Lisa... I don't know why, but writing this name makes my eyes sting.

Maybe that weirdo knows me, but I'm unable to place him in any of my puzzle pieces. After the event, my hands kept telling me that the weirdo's hands were covered in injuries, so he could not feel the softness of the petals. It's the same for my dad. His hands are covered in callouses. They are clearly not puzzle pieces with edges that match.

Mom, I miss you. I want to know about the past that drives my emotions, I want to hear your voice, and I want you to rub my head and tell me about dad, you, and our family.