“Next to nothing,” I say. “Only that I was in a vehicle hit with an IED.”
“You were with a team of four going into a hot zone to rescue two injured soldiers. Before you could evacuate them, the six of you were captured.”
“Jesus. As in taken hostage by the enemy?”
“That’s exactly what I mean. And that’s where the confusion likely started. It’s not uncommon for captives to be stripped immediately of all clothes, personal items, jewelry, and even dog tags to make sure they aren’t hiding any weapons. What webelieve happened is that when your unit found an opportunity to escape, you all scrambled to put on whatever clothing you could find. Somehow, you procured a vehicle and were racing away, nearing the safety zone when your vehicle tripped that IED.
“Of the six, you were the only survivor. Since you were wearing Lt. Davis’s fatigues, your recovery team assumed that’s who you were, and it just continued from there. We didn’t know all the details surrounding your capture and escape for a few days. By then, you’d already been logged into the system as James Davis and nobody thought to question it.”
It’s strange. I’m stunned to hear what he’s saying, but since I have no memory of it or the people I was with, there’s no disbelief or shock or emotion other than I’m still reeling over the fact that I’m a surgeon.
Suddenly, an emotion does hit me—sadness. I close my eyes briefly as the thought behind it catches up to me. “So the woman who was here yesterday, Jenny Davis. She thought her brother was alive…”
He nods. “She’s been apprised of the situation.”
“Damn. That had to be tough on her.” Then another thought occurs. They know who I’m not, but they now also know who I am. “So exactly who am I, other than a doctor?”
“That I can tell you, as you and I had become close over the past few years. Trevor Jordan Criss. Thirty-five years old. You married your childhood sweetheart, Ava, after medical school right before you came overseas to fulfill your duty as your education was paid for by the military. No children, but not due to a lack of trying. You and your wife have been battling infertility. You’re the only child of Dawn and Chuck Criss, happily married and splitting their time between Calloway Creek and Phoenix after leaving you and Ava their coffee shop. Your dream was to become a cardiothoracic surgeon. You were dueto complete your active duty on February 11th. You’d secured a fellowship at your hometown hospital.”
I look at the whiteboard. The date is February 3rd. I scrub a hand across my face. “You mean to tell me I’ve been serving overseas for years and was heading home in mere weeks whenthishappened?”
“Terrible stroke of bad luck,” Sharp says.
My mind is racing through all the stuff he just told me as I try to decipher bits of it. I have a wife. I can’t even think of what all this must be doing to the woman I’m married to. Because she’s not just my wife, she’s my childhood sweetheart. Someone I assume I’ve been in a committed relationship with for decades even. Someone I’d been trying to start a family with.
“You said her name is Ava?”
“Yes. We’re in the process of notifying her and your parents.”
“That I’m alive?”
He nods.
I heave out an explosive sigh. “That means they’ve been thinking I’ve been dead for over two weeks.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“That’s got to be… I don’t even know.”
It’s hard to put it into words. Based on the devastation I saw on Jenny’s face yesterday, I can’t even imagine what the people in my life have gone through. A young wife believing she’s a widow. Parents who thought they’d lost their only child in such a violent manner. All of them grieving over such a tremendous loss because of a goddamn mix-up of clothing. Because I chose to take a job that put me in danger.
“It will be a shock, yes, but a much better one than the calamitous blow to Ms. Davis.”
“Do you have any pictures of my family? Of me?”
“I don’t. Your personal effects were packed up weeks ago. It takes time to process them and get them back to loved ones.Weeks. Sometimes months. At this point, it’s hard to say where we could find them. I’d suggest getting yourself a new cell phone as soon as you return to the states. If you’re eager to see pictures, you’ll find them on social media. You didn’t post much of anything yourself. Doctors like us are usually too busy for that nonsense. But your bride seemed to be very active, always talking about Calloway Creek and your coffee shop. And you.”
I surmise searching for Ava Criss will produce much better results than my last attempt at finding James.Ava Criss. It’s a unique name.
I blow out a long, deep, frustrated, confused breath.
“We should let you rest,” Dr. Simms says. “This has been a lot to absorb.”
“I’ll be here until tomorrow,” Sharp assures me. “We can talk more later, and I’ll be happy to tell you anything I can.”
One more day to glean all I can from the only person here who can tell me anything about myself. How am I supposed to put my past back together in a day? From someone else’s memories ofmylife, no less.
As they approach the door to leave, I call out, “One more question.” They all turn and look at me. “Where in the hell is Calloway Creek?”
