Page 7 of Unlocking Melodies

I stared at the photos blankly. There were people smiling at the camera, one raising a beer, another sitting on a fence with a horse. But I couldn't tell which one was supposed to be me.

“Which... which one am I?” I asked, hating how small my voice sounded.

Liam's face fell slightly, but he recovered quickly. “This one,” he said, pointing to a guy with disheveled dark hair who was grinning at the camera. “That's you, right there.”

I studied the stranger who was apparently me. He looked happy, comfortable, like he belonged in that moment with these people. But it was like watching a movie about someone else's life. That guy in the photos might have had my face, but he felt about as familiar as my supposed friends sitting next to me - which was to say, not at all.

“I don't...” I swallowed hard. “None of this feels real.”

“Hey, it's okay.” Caleb's voice was gentle. “The doctor said this might happen. We'll help you figure it out.”

“But who am I?” The question came out smaller than I meant it to. “I mean, what kind of person am I? What do I do? Where do I live?”

They exchanged looks that made my stomach twist.

“You're one of the good ones,” Liam said finally. “You're smart, funny as hell, and you've got an ear for music that's almost scary. You live in Oakwood Grove - we can take you there when they release you. Your apartment's above The Watering Hole.”

“I live above a bar?”

“Nina gives you a deal on rent in exchange for helping with the books.” Caleb grinned. “You're surprisingly good with numbers for a music guy.”

I tried to picture it - this life they were describing. But it was like trying to remember a dream that was already fading. All Ihad were fragments: the feel of piano keys under my fingers, the smell of coffee, a melody I couldn't quite catch.

“There's something else,” I said slowly. “Something important. I can feel it, but...”

“It'll come back,” Liam said, but there was something careful in his voice. Like he wasn't telling me everything.

I looked down at my hands, wrapped in white gauze. The bandages masked what I assumed must be some kind of injury, though I couldn't feel much beyond a dull ache. My fingers poked out from the wrappings - long and slender, with calluses visible in places that suggested years of playing music. At least that part fit with what they were telling me. Reaching up, I found more bandages around my head, which explained the throbbing that seemed to have taken up permanent residence there.

“What happened to me?” I asked. “How did I end up here?”

Another loaded look passed between them.

“You were attacked,” Caleb said finally. “At the ranch. We found you by the old storage shed. Police are still investigating.”

“Who would want to attack me?”

“That's what we're trying to figure out.” Liam's hand tightened on his guitar case. “But don't worry about that right now, okay? Focus on getting better. We've got your back.”

I nodded, but my head was spinning with questions. Who would want to hurt me? What kind of life had I led that got me here? And what was that nagging feeling that I was forgetting something crucial?

The neurologist came back with more tests, more questions. When she was finally done, Caleb pulled something from his jacket pocket.

“They found this when they brought you in.” He handed me a phone in a battered case. “Thought you might want it back.”

The lock screen showed a sunset over what must have been their ranch - golden light painting the sky above a wooden fenceand rolling pastures. It was a beautiful photo. Probably meant something to the person who took it. To me, it was just another piece of evidence that I was living someone else's life.

I stared at the keypad. Nothing. Whatever combination of numbers used to unlock this thing, they were lost in the void where my memories should have been.

“Try your birthday,” Liam suggested. Then, off my blank look, “Right. Sorry. Um, want me to...?”

“No.” I set the phone face-down on the blanket.

It felt too private somehow, letting them see how completely I had lost myself. Which was ridiculous, because apparently they knew more about me than I did right then.

Caleb cleared his throat. “Look, you were already staying at our place before... this happened. Guest house is still yours if you want it. Might be easier than trying to navigate your apartment alone right now.”

My first instinct was to say no. These guys seemed nice enough, but they were strangers. The rational thing would have been to get some space, try to sort myself out somewhere neutral. Maybe check into a hotel or...

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