Jane tilted her head, listening. It spoke no words but hummed with an ache so familiar it silenced the room.
2025.08.06
珍早已不再計算日子。時間不再是她追逐的東西，而是由她親手塑造的存在。作為「回聲之顏的守護者」，她在被遺忘的記憶長廊中徘徊，每一道陰影都承載著曾經活過的片段。
她的任務不是讓這些面孔恢復原狀，而是將它們編織成和諧。有些面孔清晰而堅定，有些卻模糊顫抖，如同即將消散的耳語。珍坐在它們面前，雙手描繪著無形的線條，將它們的故事調整至不再為失落而悲鳴。在這份靜謐的勞動中，她找到了罕見的平靜。某個傍晚，暮色滲入牆壁，一張不同於以往的面孔浮現——它半成形，頑固地拒絕自己的輪廓。珍歪著頭傾聽。它沒有言語，卻散發出熟悉的痛楚，使房間陷入靜默。她第一次將自己的倒影與之重疊，直到兩者無法分辨。
在這重疊中，她明白了：自己的面孔從不獨立於她守護的檔案之外。她本身就是這無數故事的拼合體。而她不再懼怕這種模糊，在那柔和的消融裡，她看見的不是失落，而是歸屬。
天亮時，那張頑固的面孔已消失，融回無盡的織錦。珍微笑了。她再也不需要分辨，自己與回聲何處為界。
Jane had long stopped counting the days. Time was no longer something she followed but something she shaped. As the Keeper of Echoed Faces, she wandered through forgotten corridors of memory, where every shadow carried a fragment of a life once lived.
Her task was not to restore these faces but to weave them into harmony. Some arrived clear and bold, others blurred, trembling like fading whispers. Jane would sit before them, her hands tracing invisible lines, aligning their stories until they no longer mourned their lost sharpness. In this quiet labor, she found a rare kind of peace.
One evening, as twilight bled into the walls, a face emerged unlike the others—half-formed, stubbornly resisting its own outline. Jane tilted her head, listening. It spoke no words but hummed with an ache so familiar it silenced the room. For the first time, Jane placed her own reflection beside it, letting the two images overlap until they were indistinguishable.
In that merging, she understood: her own face was not separate from the archive she guarded. She, too, was a composite of every story she had ever touched. And instead of fearing the blur, Jane welcomed it. In that soft dissolution, she saw not loss, but belonging.
When dawn came, the stubborn face was gone, folded back into the endless tapestry. Jane smiled. She no longer needed to remember where she ended and the echoes began.
