“Are you in any pain?” She looked at me with concern.

“Just a horrible headache.” I reached for my head.

“I’ll let the doctor know and we’ll get you something for that.”

“What happened to me?” I looked up at her, searching her face for answers.

She flashed me a kind smile. “There’s actually someone that’s been here waiting for you to wake up for quite some time. I’ll let him tell you what happened while I check your vitals.” She moved aside and my eyes focused on the other figure in the room—the tall, handsome man in a tailored charcoal suit standing anxiously behind her.

“Hi.” I looked at him, unsure of what else to say to this stranger.

“Liv? Thank God you finally woke up.”

I smiled at him. His warm, hazel eyes were filled with concern as he moved in front of the nurse to grab my hand. I studied him, wondering why he seemed so familiar.

He reached for me. Deep creases formed between his brows as he furrowed them in worry. “Liv, how are you feeling?” His voice was smooth and gentle. I couldn’t quite place where, but I knew I’d heard it before.

I placed my hands to my head and groaned. “Besides this killer headache, I’m okay.” I tried to get up but my arms felt weak as I slumped back down against the pillows when I tried to sit up. He reached over and helped me lean up against the headboard of the bed.

“It’s so good to see you awake.” He held my face and kissed me gently on my forehead.

I flinched and frowned up at him. “Who are you? Have we met before?”

His expression changed immediately and he whipped around and turned to the nurse. I saw them exchange a look that I didn’t understand.

He then turned back to me and frowned, his eyes filled with sadness. “You don’t remember me?”

I studied his face and thought about it. “No, I don’t think so,” I finally said as I shook my head.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” he asked me tentatively. I didn’t need to know this man to detect the anxious expression on his face.

I stared at him and tried to rack my brain, searching for anything I could remember. I shook my head in frustration as I buried it in my hands. My head was pounding in pain as if I had just awoken from the worst hangover of my life.

“Liv, are you okay? What’s wrong?” The alarm in his voice exacerbated the panic that was building inside.

“Why do you keep calling me Liv?” I felt annoyed as I looked back up at him. My annoyance turned to worry when I saw the shocked expression on his face.

The nurse stepped forward. “Do you remember your name?”

I opened my mouth, ready to answer her simple question, but then stopped. It was only then, when I was forced to think about it, that it dawned on me that I didn’t actually know the answer. “I…I can’t remember.”

“Is there anything you do remember?” Her tone was gentle and cautious.

I searched my thoughts, trying to grab onto any memory. But everything outside the last few minutes seemed like a dream that I had somehow forgotten the moment I woke up. Why can’t I remember anything? I shook my head in frustration. “What happened to me?”

“I’ll let Mr. Brady here tell you what happened while I go get Dr. Miller.”

“Honey, I’m Connor. Connor Brady. Are you sure you don’t remember me?” The man moved back toward me, a mixture of hopefulness and uncertainty painted across his face.

“Connor,” I repeated in a monotone voice. I studied him, trying to place him to some moment in my life. There was something about him that was familiar, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to remember how I knew him. I shook my head slowly. “I don’t even remember my own name.”

“Your name is Olivia Stuart. Your friends call you Liv.” He sat down on the chair next to my bed and placed his hand on top of mine. His hand was warm and familiar but it felt weird to have this stranger touching me in this intimate way. I didn’t pull my hand away, though. I needed answers and this man seemed to have them, so the last thing I wanted to do was to offend him.

“What happened to me?”

His face fell. “You were in a hit-and-run accident.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. He paused before continuing. “You’ve been in a coma for the past eight days since the accident.”

Panic and confusion swirled around me at the idea of losing so much time without knowing it. “Eight days? But…but I don’t remember any of this. Why can’t I remember anything?” I felt frantic as I tried to push through the fog and my mind came back blank.

“Liv, you sustained some head injuries from the accident. The doctors said that memory loss was a possibility when you woke up…”

I stared at him in disbelief as my hands immediately moved up to my head. When my fingers traced the layers of bandages, I knew he was telling me the truth.

“Don’t worry. The doctors say that if there’s memory loss, it might only be temporary,” he tried to reassure me. “You might slowly regain your memories back.”

“Might?” I didn’t feel reassured by that word.

Just then a middle-aged bald man in a white lab coat walked into the room. A warm smile appeared on his friendly face. “Ms. Stuart. I’m Dr. Miller. It’s great to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

“What’s wrong with me, Dr. Miller? Why can’t I remember who I am?”

“Let me ask you a few questions first, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Do you know when you were born?”

I searched my mind, trying to recall the answer. Nothing. I shook my head.

“Do you know where you went to high school?”

“No.” I shook my head again as I felt the frustration and helplessness grow inside.

“Do you know the name of Philadelphia’s football team?”

To my surprise, I didn’t draw a blank this time. “The Eagles.”

“You remember,” Connor said excitedly as he squeezed my hand.

Dr. Miller smiled. “Can you tell me how many states there are in the U.S.?”

“Fifty.” I frowned at the doctor, wondering if that was a trick question. “There are a few territories like Puerto Rico and Guam though,” I added.

“Well, it looks like you’ve suffered from some memory loss due to the accident, but not all. It’s not uncommon for someone to have some degree of amnesia after a traumatic event like the one you experienced. From your answers, it appears the amnesia has affected your episodic memory, which is the memory of experiences and specific events—the memories personal to you. But it seems that the amnesia didn’t affect your semantic memory, which is the memory dealing with facts and your knowledge of the eternal world.” He studied the clipboard in his hands. “The good news is from all the tests we’ve run on you, it doesn’t seem like there was any damage to the areas of your brain that store your long-term memories.”

“What does that mean, doctor?” the handsome man in the charcoal suit cut in to ask.

“Well it should mean that Ms. Stuart hasn’t suffered any long-term memory loss.”

“So I don’t understand. Why can’t I remember anything about myself, then?”

“That’s the thing we don’t know at this time. The brain is a miraculous and mysterious thing. It’s unlikely that you’re suffering from any permanent brain damage.”

“So what’s the problem?” Connor asked, his grip tightened around my hand.

“Sometimes the brain will suppress memories after going through a traumatic experience. That memory hasn’t been forgotten in the traditional sense, but it’s locked away by the sub-conscious and removed from the conscious mind.”

“So does that mean I’ll get my memories back?” I looked at him hopefully.

“The chances are good, but it’s also not a guarantee either that you’ll get some or all of your memories back. The best thing for you is to go back to your life before the accident and surround yourself with the things that are familiar and important to you—those are usually the things that will help trigger your memories.”