A Monodrama for Carolyn August - Chapter 40

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Chapter 40.
“Then I’ll see you at dinner time.”
The moment Aiden spoke those words and climbed the stairs, Caroline bolted into a nearby ground-floor room.
She unfolded one of Anna’s old letters—the one the servant had confiscated.
[Dear Caroline.
How do all boys manage to be so stupid? I’m truly furious. You know what it means when girls deliberately drop their handkerchiefs, right? They hope the boy they fancy will pick it up as he passes.
I already knew there were girls after my boyfriend—he’s reasonably handsome, after all. But one of them actually pulled out her handkerchief and let it flutter to the ground right in front of me.
I was hoping he’d just walk past without noticing, but no—what a noble knight he turned out to be! He actually bent down and picked it up right next to me. And even after seeing the girl’s expression when she got it back, he still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.
So I got angry and just left. Now I’m sitting alone in class. But what makes me even angrier is that he says he has no idea what the problem is, so I won’t talk to him.
Anyway, that’s the end of my love life for now. But recently I learned something interesting in psychology class that I wanted to share with you.
You know how sometimes you see people acting like they’ve become someone else entirely, and they don’t even remember it? An introverted person who never drank or smoked suddenly becomes the life of the party and does all sorts of unhealthy things. When someone’s “personality” changes like this, it’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Interesting, right? But here’s what’s even more interesting—these different personalities don’t usually just appear one at a time. Some people have had as many as twenty-four. Their clothes, voice, mental age, sense of self, and even their names can all change.
Hmm, actually, now that I think about it, my love life seems more interesting than this. I’m guessing by the next letter, something will have happened.
Anyway, Caroline, I miss you so much. I wish we could have a cold beer together.
Miss you!!! You’re doing well, right? Write back soon.
Your best friend, Anna Blanché]
“So that’s what it was.”
Caroline exhaled and closed the letter.
Aiden Dairvel’s condition was Dissociative Identity Disorder.
It wasn’t that he struggled to distinguish acting from reality, or that he lost himself too deeply in his roles regardless of time or place.
Rather, he carried each character role as his own personality.
‘That’s why he reacted so defensively when I tried to wake him up to himself.’
If he truly believed himself to be James, then insisting he was Aiden made perfect sense.
Because he genuinely believed that his character self was who he really was.
“Thank you, Anna.”
Because of her, Caroline had uncovered something truly significant.
With that thought, she climbed the stairs.
“Oh!”
As she turned the corner heading toward her room on the second floor, Caroline stumbled backward at the sight of the figure that suddenly appeared below her.
It was Toby.
!
Startled as she was, Caroline took his hand in relief and led him to her room.
She had been waiting for him anyway.
There was something she needed to verify.
Though Toby couldn’t speak directly, that didn’t mean he couldn’t confirm things for her.
She still hadn’t discovered what he truly was, but she planned to tell the boy what she had learned and see where the truth lay.
That way, she could know what was correct and what wasn’t.
She closed the door, sat Toby near the bed, and took her place at the desk.
“You can’t speak to me directly, but you said you know about Aiden Dairvel’s childhood and this estate.”
The boy’s expression was serene, as though he had been waiting for this very moment.
He nodded.
“Then show me if what I’ve figured out is true.”
Caroline gathered together the conversation she’d overheard and all the materials she’d collected.
“Aiden’s mother, Michelle, was a accomplished dancer. Then she met Aiden’s father, Roman, the Viscount, and fell in love. But she was abandoned after becoming pregnant with Aiden.”
It was something she had learned from eavesdropping in the parlor earlier.
“Yet despite that, she loved him until the day she died, and would have done anything to gain his attention. Collecting jewels was one way of doing that.”

“Our mother thought of him until her dying breath. But now I realize.”
“She believed that even severed bonds and estranged people could all look toward her. So she kept buying and collecting new and varied jewels.”
“Aiden was a trophy to her, too. That’s why she had such special obsession and affection for Aiden as an actor.”
“My life was also a kind of trophy to show to him. But now—?”
“Because of that, she involved herself heavily in Aiden’s acting. As a result, Aiden became willing to behave as though he truly were the character role itself, preparing for each play with complete immersion.”
―You don’t need to sacrifice your daily life to your roles. You have what it takes without that.
―I know how blind acting has been for you, who’ve lived as a child actor since childhood. And I know that the relationship with your mother, who began this journey with you, cannot be separated from your acting.
“And as a result… wait.”
Just as she was about to say that this led to his current situation—acting out character roles without even realizing it—
Caroline’s eyes widened and froze.
There was another letter attached to her notebook that she hadn’t read.
“That’s it!”
The memory came back to her then.
Something she’d forgotten when she met Toby and spoke with him back then.
‘Why did I only discover this now? What did I miss?’
Caroline bit her lip hard and opened the final envelope.
[Dear Aiden,
It’s been quite some time since we last corresponded, and I confess I doubted my eyes when I saw your letter.
Receiving your letter stirred old memories—of when we first met. That day when you wore a cap pulled low over your suspenders, and with a poor boy named Toby as your false identity, alongside a sister you claimed to have, you performed such magnificent Acting that you managed to extract my carriage fare. That very day.
I had gone to the Manor that day to receive some props, but instead I discovered a treasure far greater than any mere object—a treasure of the theatrical arts. And to learn that this treasure is retiring is most lamentable.
I should very much like to visit the Manor once more and share tea with you, Aiden. On that occasion, I shall bring plenty of Ginger Cakes—the kind you said you enjoyed back then.]
A cap pulled low over suspenders.
A poor boy named Toby—a false identity, complete with a sister.
And remarkably, bearing a face that resembled Aiden’s own.
“……!”
Caroline lowered the hand holding the letter and looked at the child before her.
What stood in her vision was young Aiden.
And the boy, receiving her gaze, nodded as if to say he understood everything.
“So now you understand.”
That’s right. I am Aiden.
“Aiden from childhood.”
Caroline rose from her seat and moved toward him as if entranced.
“The residual consciousness of young Aiden—added as a character to provide hints to the Player.”
The figure before her was young Aiden.
Caroline gazed intently at his childhood form, which she had never witnessed before, committing every detail to memory.
“In those days, my mother wouldn’t lay a finger on anything in the Manor. She cared only for luxury. So paradoxically, we lived in this grand Estate yet found ourselves struggling to survive.”
The child’s face darkened with bitterness.
“At first, I took things from the Manor and sold them. I was beaten severely for it.”
Only now could Caroline understand him.
The warnings never to steal from the Manor. The punishment of going hungry.
“After that, all I could do was beg. But that proved far harder than I imagined.”
Caroline began to grasp why Aiden had turned to Acting.
“I needed a narrative that would stir their pity, and I crafted my behavior to match.”
The words from the letter she’d just read flashed through her mind.
“Do you see that?”
Young Aiden stretched his hand toward a corner of Caroline’s room.