Page 24 of One of Those Amnesia Stories

“You were shouting at her.”

“I will be quiet,” he promised quickly, lowering his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “See? Practically silent.”

The first man stepped forward and placed a firm hand on his shoulder, guiding him toward the door before he could launch into another speech.

“But I still have her flowers,” the loud man protested, clutching the bouquet protectively to his chest.

“Keep them.”

The first man ushered him into the hallway and shut the door in his face.

A muffled, “This is incredibly rude,” came from the other side.

He stood by the door with his back to me, shoulders rigid, head bowed, his hand resting against the handle. When he finally turned around, his expression was carefully composed, every trace of emotion tucked away behind an unreadable calm.

His eyes betrayed him. Those dark, bottomless eyes held fear, pain, and a desperation that made me uneasy.

Dr. Reed broke the silence. “Miss Quinn, I need to ask you a few questions. Some of your answers may seem obvious, but they help me understand what you remember and what you don’t. Do you recognize this man?”

My gaze shifted toward the silent figure near the door. I searched his features, hoping some buried memory would surface.

There was nothing.

I looked back at Dr. Reed. “No. I’ve never seen him before.”

The man’s expression faltered.

Dr. Reed caught it, but he kept his attention on me. He made a brief note on his tablet before continuing. “All right. Can you tell me where you are?”

“In a hospital.”

“Do you know which hospital?”

I frowned. “No.”

“That’s fine. Can you tell me what year it is?”

“2023.”

Dr. Reed stopped writing.

His brows drew together, and he exchanged a quick glance with the man by the door. The man’s entire expression changed, a flicker of alarm crossing his face before he carefully concealed it.

Dr. Reed turned back to me. “And do you know what month it is?”

“January.”

He nodded slowly. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Felicity and I were at a New Year’s party.” A smile slipped onto my face before I could stop it. “We got completely hammered. We got into the car, and then…”

The rest of the sentence vanished.

I frowned and closed my eyes, trying to reach past the throbbing pain behind my eyes and find whatever came next. I searched through every fragment I could remember, following the memory backward, then forward, hoping another detail would surface.

Nothing came.

I could see Felicity in the back seat, slumped against the window, her shoulders shaking with laughter over some ridiculous joke I couldn’t remember. I could hear the faint echo of her giggling. I could picture the passing lights outside the window, sliding across the glass in brief flashes.