Page 40 of Amnesia

Her brown eyes were focused on where our hands were clasped. Slowly, her eyes lifted to meet mine.

“I like holding your hand like this,” she confided.

My chest tightened. “Me, too.”

“I have to let go now,” she told me, sadness in her gaze. “I’m afraid if the doctors think we’re getting too close, they won’t let you see me.”

Determination swelled within me. “No one is going to keep me away.”

He lips lifted, her face wistful. “Sometimes I wish I was a normal girl, but then I realize I don’t even know what normal is.”

“Normal is whatever you want it to be.”

I felt her hand slowly slip from mine. I didn’t grab it back, though I wanted to.

“They’re waiting,” she said, and we continued into the hall toward her room.

She walked in first. I saw the change come over her body. “What’s wrong?” Quickly, I moved forward, rushing into the room and angling slightly in front of her.

“Sorry to interrupt your fresh air,” Dr. Beck said, “but we want to talk.”

The room was full. Dr. Beck, Dr. Kline, a few nurses, and a couple other doctors who had been working on Amnesia’s case. The police officer who was working her case also stood by. There was another man I didn’t really know. He was dressed in a suit, tie included. He oozed authority.

My stance in front of her didn’t relax. In fact, I felt even more protective. “What’s going on?”

“Doctor-patient confidentiality. If you could step out in the hall—” Dr. Beck began.

My laugh cut him off. “No.”

“Mr. Donovan.” The man in the suit spoke up. “I hear the staff here have been very… shall we say,accommodatingregarding your coming and going in this hospital—”

“Who are you?” I cut him off, too.

“I’m the hospital director.”

“It’s fine.” Amnesia spoke up. “I want him here.”

Dr. Beck and Mr. Director backed off. I smiled at them.

“As you know, you’ve been with us about four months now.” Dr. Beck began. Beside me, Am nodded. “I realize your memory is not recovered, but all your other injuries have healed. For all intents and purposes, you have a clean bill of health.”

“You’re kicking me out,” Am said, her voice oddly void.

“Of course not,” the director said. “But rules and regulations… Hospital policy states we cannot house a person who no longer requires care.”

“She has no memory. No home, money, or means to support herself,” I said, angry.

“What will I do?” Amnesia worried. Despite her words in the hallway about not holding my hand, I felt her fingers seek mine. Instantly, my hand flexed, inviting her in, closing around hers possessively.

She was afraid. I couldn’t even tell her not to be.

“Given the uniqueness of this situation—”

Amnesia made a sound, cutting off the doctor, then turned toward the police officer. “Has someone come forward claiming to know me? Did you find out who I am? Is that why you’re here?”

Regret shone in his face. “No, ma’am. I’m sorry to say we haven’t had any new leads in the last couple weeks. Have you remembered anything more?”

Her shoulders fell. “No.”

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