“What you’re experiencing is called short-term retrograde amnesia.”
Naomi stared at him. “My memories are just . . . gone?”
“For now. They may return. Or they may not. The most important thing is rest and low stress while your brain heals.”
The doctor said some other things using terminology that sounded familiar, but Naomi couldn’t quite grasp his words. The nurse took more vitals. The doctor looked at her medical record again.
Everything was all a blur.
The harder she tried to remember, the worse her head hurt.
She tried to go back in time again, tried to recall her last clear memory. She thought—maybe—she remembered getting ready for work yesterday morning. She thought it was yesterday, at least.
She’d remembered the vague feeling of being nervous as she’d applied her makeup. But about what?
Nothing flooded back to her.
After the doctor left, Gio squeezed her hand. “See? It’s going to be okay.”
She nodded, but the unease in her chest remained.
Gio’s thumb brushed over her knuckles in a familiar, comforting gesture—and still, something felt off.
Not dangerous.
Just . . . hollow.
“I feel like I lost something important,” she said.
Gio smiled softly. “If it mattered, it’ll come back.”
Naomi hoped he was right. Because someone had attacked her.
And that absolutelydidmatter.
