What’s going on? Where am I? My stomach twists in on itself. Bile burns the back of my aching throat.
“Señora?” The man’s voice is soft, with a thick Mexican accent. Gently, he lifts one of my eyelids, blinds me with a bright light, and repeats the process with my other lid.
A tiny whimper from close by sends panic prickling over my skin. Until I realize it came from me.
“Shhh. You are safe here.”
He’s close enough to rest his hand on mine. The beeping is so fast now, it’s almost a constant tone.
“You must stay calm, señora. Manda la calma.”
No.
I’d scream the word if I could. Stay calm? I can’t move. Can’t open my eyes. And there’s a strange man touching me. I have to get out of here. He’ll hurt me. He’ll lock me away and I’ll disappear forever.
It takes all the strength I have to open my eyes. I have to know who this man is. But everything’s blurry. Hazy. Like I’m looking through a dirty window.
Brown hair. Tanned skin. Stubble. A white coat.
“¿Señora? ¿Habla ingles? English?”
English. Yes.
I nod. Big mistake. The room starts to spin. Squeezing my eyes shut, I will myself not to throw up. It…mostly works. More bile coats my tongue. The bitter taste makes me gag, which sends shooting pain spiraling out from my side.
“Breathe,” the man says softly. “I do not want your stitches to tear.”
Stitches?
The beeping eases a fraction as I drag air into my lungs.
“Better. You must be frightened, but I swear, you are safe, señora. Injured, but safe. I am Dr. Alejandro Reyes. This is my clinic,” he says and perches on the edge of a chair next to the bed. “If your blood pressure rises any higher, I will have to sedate you.”
My vision has cleared enough for me to make out the doctor’s face. His brown eyes are kind. A jagged scar runs from his ear down his jaw and across his throat.
“Do you understand?” he asks. “Please say something. Or tell me your name. You had no identification on you when you were found.”
I blink up at him. It’s a simple request. My name. It’s…it’s…
Tears slip down my temples.
“I…don’t…know. Why…don’t I…?”
Reyes curls his fingers around mine. “You suffered a serious head injury. A cranial fracture. Your brain had already started to swell when you were brought here. I operated to repair the broken bone, then put you in a medically induced coma to let the swelling go down. I did not know if you’d be able to speak—or even wake up—until a few minutes ago.”
I search for a memory—any memory—but my entire life is…gone.
“Can’t…remember…anything.” My rough, dry throat seizes, and I start to cough. The pain in my side is so intense, my vision goes white.
Reyes presses a straw to my chapped lips. “Water. Slow sips. You were intubated for almost forty-eight hours.”
“M-my…side…” I whisper once I can breathe again. “Hurts.”
His warm brown eyes shift to the floor. “Señora, you need to rest. I will explain everything, but I am afraid you are not strong enough yet to hear it.”
I have to prove him wrong. Gritting my teeth, I reach for him and wrap my fingers around his wrist. “Who…am…I?”
His voice takes on such a sorrowful tone, I want to cry. “I do not know. But the brain is a wondrous thing. You could wake up tomorrow and remember everything.”
