My Patient Swears Her Whole Family Is Impostors

Standing next to Jeremy was a young woman with a slightly protruding stomach. I guessed that she was his wife, Francesca Burton.

I knocked on the door and said, "Mrs. Warner, it's me, Dr. Simmons."

It fell silent on the other side of the door for a moment before there came the sounds of the door being unlocked.

The door creaked open slightly, revealing Lydia's old and wary face. After she was sure that it was me, she swung the door open. She yanked me into the apartment before swiftly slamming the door shut and locking it again.

"Look, Dr. Simmons!" she exclaimed while grinning toothily at me. "The monsters can't get in now! I'll never let them into my house ever again!"

The gleeful expression on her face was reminiscent of a child.

My heart felt heavy as I looked at Lydia.

Confusing one's memories and being unable to recognize one's loved ones were common symptoms of someone suffering from Alzheimer's disease. However, the patient typically wouldn't act so aggressively toward them, even going so far as to think that they would hurt them.

I couldn't help but wonder what on earth was going on with the Warner family.

"Why don't we have a chat, Mrs. Warner?" I asked as I led Lydia to the couch.

Lydia grabbed my arm tightly and said, "I'm not sick, doctor. There's nothing wrong with me."

"I know," I said as I patted her hand soothingly. "Can you tell me why that photo is upside down?"

I pointed at the photo next to the television cabinet. I noticed it during my first visit. The photo frame had been turned upside down and was facing the wall.

It was a bizarre sight, and yet no one in the Warner family had found anything odd about it despite how they were supposed to be a loving and harmonious family.

Fear and confusion flickered in Lydia's eyes. She pointed at the young boy in the photo and said, "There's something wrong with that photo. Jeremy has a small, red birthmark behind his ear, but the boy in the photo doesn't. The birth mark is also missing from the man who's posing at Jeremy.

"The photo must be fake! That's why I turned it around!"

Lydia's accusations were once again based on minute, physical details that outsiders wouldn't take notice of.

I narrowed my eyes. I softened my voice and asked, "Mrs. Warner, when did you first start noticing that something was amiss with your husband and son?"

Lydia's breathing sped up as she exclaimed, "A year ago after the car accident! Both of them were caught in the accident, so they were hospitalized for a few days. After I brought them home, they began looking at me coldly.

"We were together for decades. Why would they look at me as if I were a stranger? Dean's supposed to be my husband, and Jeremy's supposed to be my son. You might not pick up on it, but I did!"

My heart throbbed.

Lydia had constantly insisted that Jeremy's leg was fine, but Dean had mentioned that Jeremy hurt his leg during the accident.

However, at that moment, Lydia had also acknowledged that Jeremy had been involved in an accident.

It seemed that she was indeed confusing her memories. But she was still able to recall many things in great detail, which didn't fit the symptoms of someone suffering from Alzheimer's disease.

I stood up and opened the door, allowing Dean, Jeremy, and Francesca to enter the apartment.

"Mr. Dean and Mr. Jeremy," I said seriously. "After taking into account Mrs. Warner's current mental state and her repeated insistence that things are different than what she remembers, I highly suggest that you take a DNA test.

"After the results are out, she won't be able to accuse you of being impostors regardless of whether she's suffering from Alzheimer's disease."

"A DNA test?" Jeremy asked as an outraged expression crossed his face. "What are you trying to say, Dr. Simmons? Do I have to prove to my own mother that I'm her son? That's ridiculous!"

On the other hand, Lydia seemed to be very much onboard with my suggestion. "I agree! Let's do it!"

Dean sighed heavily before he pulled out a folded document from his coat pocket.