She lets out a watery laugh and rests her cheek on the ball of my shoulder. “It’ll be okay. As long as I didn’t leave it in direct sunlight, a week away won’t hurt it. Especially since we’re in winter.”
Stunned, I screech to a stop and whip her around, my eyes wide. Bright. Damn near comical. “You know how to take care of a Ficus?”
“What?”
“You just said the thing about direct light!” I squeeze her shoulders and give her a gentle, barely-there shake. “You remembered something that isn’t walking and talking and pulling on a pair of boots.”
“Oh… well…” Slowly, her lips curl into a goofy grin. “I guess I did.”
“That’s something!” I take her hand and drag her toward a hall lined with glass. It’s like an atrium, a walk through nature, but without the icy winds or the risk of being rained on. It’s a sunroom, but a hallway, and it leads from one wing of the hospital to another. Most impressive of all is the fact that nature tries to swallow us up, massive trees lining both sides and, on really quiet mornings, a deer or two—or three—walking amongst the brush.
“Oh my gosh.” She releases my hand and walks to the glass, wrapping her palms around the old brass rail stretching the entire length of the hall. “This has been here all along, and you’re only just showing menow?”
“You didn’t want to get out of bed.” I meander forward and meet her at the glass, my elbow brushing her arm as I drop my hands into my pockets. “So maybe you have a thing for plants in your home. Or maybe you work at a nursery and literally made horticulture your career.” I scan the world laid out ahead of us. “Do you know what that is?” I tip my chin toward a tree in the distance. “What comes to mind when you look at that?”
“Er…” She nibbles on her plump bottom lip. “A tree? I don’t know the proper name, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
And just like that, my hopes are dashed. “I really thought we were on to something.” Turning my back to the snowy scene outside—not a single deer in sight—I rest against the handrail and search her eyes. “I think we should invite the media in and give them a chance to help you. Put your face on the news and see what happens. If some creep turns up and tries to claim you, I’ll show him the door again. But if a really special, kind, loving family arrives, then we’ll know we did the right thing.”
Frowning, she tucks her hair behind her ear and lowers her gaze. “Will you stay with me while they’re here?”
“Of course.” I pull her around and lay my arm across her shoulders, drawing her back until she touches the glass and her too-thin body curls against my side. “I’ll stay with you until the end, I promise. And when people come for you, I’ll be standing in front of you the whole time. No one will see you until I say they can.”
ROUND NINE
JANE
This is day eight… I think.
It might even be day nine, where I’m relegated to my side of a dirty glass pane and the world operates as normal on the other side, but every voice buzzing in my ears is muted, every action I catch in my peripherals is slow and not all that intelligible. Ever since I woke up in the hospital, my stomach curdled with fear I can’t quite explain, and my brain screaming to run, run, far, far away, I’ve been alone.
But today… today is different.
“There you are!” A man I don’t know—or perhaps, I did. Perhaps I do, I just don’t remember—steps around the dirty glass wall and strolls my way. Casual jeans and a knitted sweater add a sense of relaxation to his approach, while broad, muscular shoulders hint at power. Strength. His hair is darker than Ollie’s,muchdarker, but his smile… glistening and kind, wide and charming… that feels good. Just like when Ollie smiles.
He wears a pair of wire-frame glasses that cover eyes as friendly as his smile. But most important of all—to me, anyway—is how he walks my way with confidence and speed… and yet, I don’t feel the fear I’ve come to expect. I don’t feel the nausea.
“I’ve been looking all over for you.” The stranger takes my hands, his long, calloused fingers creating a sensory delight against my palms. Pulling me closer, he presses a kiss to my cheek and holds me for a long beat. Two. Three. Four. Finally, he pulls back and smiles. “You had me worried.”
“I don’t…” My heart thunders inside my chest. Not in terror. But in wariness. Not to run away. But staying put doesn’t feel quite right, either. “W-who are you?”
“Seriously?” He releases a booming laugh. “Wow! If I were a less secure man, that might’ve hurt my feelings.”
“I-I was in an accident,” I stammer. “I got hurt, so I?—”
“Lost your memories.” He nods, softening. “I know. You don’t even know whoyouare anymore, which is a shame, because you’re one of the best people I’ve ever met. But it’ll all come back to you soon, I promise.”
“Can you tell me who I am?”
“Maybe next time.” Already, his six-foot frame darkens, and the shadows surrounding him encroach, stealing the glitter in his eyes. He steps forward and places a gentle kiss on my left cheek. “I want you to take care of yourself, okay? Rest for now. Then prepare.”
“P-prepare for what? Wait?—”
“Jane?”
I snap my eyes open and lock onto Oliver’s bright blue gaze.
“Your heart’s racing a million miles a minute. I need you to take a deep breath and?—”
