Page 22 of Amnesty

“A dentist?” I scoffed. “You called a dentist for an opinion on who I am?”

Oh my God, if she was playing games with me.

“Let me explain,” she said serenely. “Try to calm down.”

I laughed.

“Dr. Shaw has been a dentist here for many, many years.” She began. “He was Sadie’s dentist.”

“Okay,” I said, still not following.

“He would have dental records on her, and even though Sadie is much older than the last time he saw her, the dental records would still be able to identify her.”

I sat straight up. “Really?”

Dr. Kline nodded. “Dental records are used quite often in identifying bodies of people who pass and are… unrecognizable.”

“All this time,” I said, feeling anger bubble up over the hope. “All these months, all I had to do was go over to the dentist! Why didn’t anyone say anything?” I raged.

“Because you weren’t ready.”

I laughed. “Who are you to judge?”

Her voice was indignant. “I’m your doctor.”

I shook my head. All this time…

“There are some things you just need to come to terms with on your own, Amnesia. Finding out if you were the girl who went missing twelve years ago isn’t going to solve all your problems. This is still your reality.”

“I know,” I said, some of my anger deflating.

“Given your progress lately, the recent information that has come to light, and the way you feel stuck, I feel you are ready to know.”

Gee, thanks.Glad to haveherpermission to find out about myself. I pushed out of the chair. “So I just go over to this Dr. Shaw’s office and let him look in my mouth?”

“Basically, but unfortunately, it won’t be for several days.”

“Why not?”

“Because the records are twelve years old. They’re packed away among many boxes in a storage unit. He has to find them.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. She gave me hope then ripped it away.

“He said he’ll get over there as soon as possible to begin searching.”

An idea popped into my head. “I’ll go,” I volunteered. “I’ll find them!”

“You can’t do that.” She burst my bubble.

“Why not?” I yelled again. I was beginning to sound like a petulant two-year-old.

“Because those records are confidential. Doctor-patient rules apply. Even twelve years later.”

Dejected, I sat back down. “How long do I have to wait?”

“Not long. A few days at most.”

“What’s a few more days?” I murmured. “It’s already been a lifetime.”

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