“Men. Think they know so much when they know so little. They charge. They defend. They battle. But ask them more than that, and they blunder. Mother Nature gave them brawn and testosterone, but she forgot to add a dose of good sense.”
I frowned, not quite sure what to make of the easy way she spoke to me. Was it a good thing?
“I’m sorry. Do we know each other?”
Footsteps clicked around the bed, stopping to my right. A weight settled onto the mattress and tugged the blanket taut above my thighs.
“Alizé De Villier, that big oaf’s older sister.” That made him her brother.Franginfor brother, not buddy. Tension in my shoulders relaxed with that distinction, even as I questioned my reaction. Why did it matter? “Ohma chère,” Oh my dear, “did you really think I was competition?”
“I…”
“He’s family. Not that that always means much. But even if he weren’t…” Her body shuddered with a groan of disgust. “He’s all yours.”
“What?”
“Well, you know. Family is not always a blessing.”
Whatever that meant. “No, I mean…I…I don’t understand.”
“You will,ma belle. Give it time.” Her weight on the bed shifted. “Now, I spoke to Margaux. She suspects some retrograde amnesia from the few questions you answered. She’llcome back for further evaluation when my brother isn’t huffing over her shoulder like a deranged dragon. Don’t you worry. We’ll have you back to who you were in no time. Minus your eyes. How we’re going to get that photo-worthy will be interesting. I do love a challenge.”
“I think you have the wrong person.” How batshit crazy was this lady?
Her manicured fingernails gently grazed the back of my fingers.
“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. No one is perfect. Even us De Villiers, much to my brother’s chagrin,” she admitted, her tone softened. “Or maybe you are exactly what I hope you are.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. I ignored the jerk of pain along the healing scar on my forehead and the burn around my right eye the movement caused. Something about her words sounded off, strange.
“What’s that?” I asked cautiously.
“A way forward. A lifeline, if you will.”
My head snapped in the direction of her voice. She spoke with an accent. Wait, that had been Italian, not French. I knew Italian? How did she know I spoke Italian?
“Are you testing me?” I pushed myself up to sit straighter, disregarding the strain.
“Si.” She laughed softly. “It is good you have not forgotten everything.”
And that was heavily accented English. My head was spinning. I knew at least three languages.
“How did you know?” I trembled with nerves.
“The doctor is a…let’s say a family friend.”
“I meant about the languages.”
“Why do you think I vouched for you?”
I had no idea what she meant by vouched for me, but one thing stuck out. “You know me?”
“I do hope so.”
I could scarcely breathe. Excitement, fear. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. “Who…who am I?”
Silence greeted me. If it wasn’t for her spiced, fruity perfume, the sound of her licking and smacking her lips between my heavy inhales, and the indentation of her weight on the bed, I would have thought she had left.
“Please.” I tried not to sound too desperate.
