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"Yes."
"So, why don't we start from the beginning?"
I told her everything from the moment I woke up. I told her about the Reilly brothers and the three memories I remembered.
"That's great. The last one you remembered today?"
"Yeah, but it wasn't much. Just the cemetery and the flowers."
"And how you felt," she added.
"Yes."
"There's no rhyme or reason to memory loss, and there's no magic pill to cure it. Most doctors will tell you it just takes time. I agree and disagree. Stress is a big factor in trauma, so much so that enough stress alone could cause someone to forget. The reason Dr. Surai and Nichole referred you to me is because I'm in the middle of a research grant involving amnesia patients. Your particular case is rare because most amnesiacs lose a chunk of time surrounding the trauma. In your case, you have forgotten everything with emotional attachment, which leads me to believe the event isn't the catalyst to your amnesia, especially knowing it was a suicide attempt. Something happened to you. Something painful and unimaginable that led you to believe death was the only option. The mind is a beautiful and mysterious thing. It's protecting you from whatever happened by erasing it, but with that you lost everything."
"Maybe that's not such a bad thing then?"
"Sure, only you wouldn't want to live without an identity, would you? Without some history?"
"True." I twisted my fingers around each other.
"Here's my suggestion for treatment. Let's work on things that don't have an intense emotional attachment, like your name. I want our first goal to be remembering your name, even if it's only your first name or a nickname. Just something to help restore your identity. Your mind is releasing bits of you, which means things are happening already. I believe things I give you to do will help move that along."
She sounded so confident that I would get my memories back, but I had no insurance. "I can't pay you right now, but if I get my—”
She waved her hand in the air. "Stop. You are covered under the grant. This is part of my research. No money involved, so let that go.” She leaned over. “What kinds of things have you done recently that have relieved some of your stress?”
I thought about the cliff at Grady’s house with the breaking waves echoing around me and the walk down Nichole’s street. “The beach and being alone.”
She jotted down something in her notebook. “Okay. Great. Let’s start there. Just take some solo walks on the beach at different times of the day and try not to think about remembering. Just walk and focus on the sounds of the water, the sand beneath your feet, and the air on your skin.”
“That’s it?” I asked, disbelieving.
“For now, yes.” She smiled and closed her notebook. "I think that's enough for today."
“Okay." I stood up. "When should we come back?"
"How about the day after tomorrow? Does that work for both of you?"
"Works for me," Nichole said.
"Me, too."
"Great.” She walked us to the door. "Nichole, can you stay back for a minute?"
"Sure." She handed me the car keys. "Do you want to just wait in the car?"
"Yeah. Thanks again. It was nice meeting you, Dr. Caldwell."
"You, too."
I left the waiting area and shuffled down the hallway. Instead of taking the elevator, I took the stairs. The sound from the tamping of my feet on the metal stairs became familiar, and another flash overtook me. I was running hard. My heart was racing, but not because I was tired from running, but because I was scared. No, not scared, but petrified, and I was crying. I gripped the metal railing for stability as the feelings overwhelmed me. I sat down on the stairs to get my bearings. The memory was like the others, quick yet profound. I was still trying to catch my breath when the bottom floor door opened, and a doctor in scrubs entered the stairwell.
"Are you okay, miss?" he asked.
"Yes. Yes, I'm fine." I stood up and walked out onto the first floor. I was so sick of people asking me if I was okay. It just reminded me that I wasn't. When I got to the car, Nichole was already there.
"What happened to you? I've been here for like five minutes."
"I took the stairs." I tossed her the keys and didn't say another word.
