“So what’s wrong with me?” he asked, trying to tamp down the alarm he was experiencing. A cold sweat broke out on the back of his neck.
Dr. Margo sighed, but her eyes were still kind when she looked up at him again. “I’m not sure. The next step will be for you to see a psychiatrist. If there isn’t a physical explanation for your memory loss, maybe there is something else that can explain it.”
“A psychiatrist? You think I’m crazy?” Isaiah was more than alarmed. None of it made any sense. The monitor he was hooked up to beeped, and he realized his heart rate had spiked.
“That’s not what I’m saying, Isaiah. I’m not a psychiatrist, but perhaps you experienced a traumatic event that caused you to temporarily forget who you are. Or maybe there’s another explanation. But a psychiatrist will be better equipped to determine that. Do you understand?”
He took a deep breath. There was no reason to be upset with Dr. Margo. She was just trying to help him. Still, something deep inside told him a psychiatrist was not what he needed. Suddenly, he had the overwhelming urge to get back to the woods.
“I decline,” he said abruptly.
Dr. Margo jerked her head back. “You… decline?”
“Yes. I’m physically fine. I haven’t committed any crime. There is no further reason to hold me here. I’d like to leave.” Isaiah unhooked himself from the monitor and stood.
Dr. Margo mirrored him. “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Isaiah. We should?—”
“Thank you for your help, Dr. Margo, but I don’t need anything else now. I need to get home.”
Something flickered in Dr. Margo’s eyes. “Home? Do you remember where it is?”
Isaiah had the feeling he wasn’t the type of person who lied, because it didn’t come naturally to him, but he was desperate.He said what she needed to hear to let him go. “Yes, it’s all coming back now. I’ll catch a bus home. Thanks again.”
He’d already changed back into his pants and shirt after the scan, so he grabbed his coat from a chair by the door. Dr. Margo and her assistant seemed to be having some silent conversation at his side.Are they going to stop me?
The silent conversation appeared to continue as he backed out of the room. Only after he exited the hospital did he realize he had no idea how to get back to the trail where he’d been found.
His mind went to the tiny woman with caramel-colored hair and adorable freckles who had found him on the trail.Sofia.That had been her name. She’d seemed a little cautious of him—he was a stranger, after all—but otherwise, she’d been very helpful.
Maybe if he found Sofia, she could take him back to the trail. Something told him that was where he needed to be. But his current problem was how to find Sofia. He still had no idea where he was, let alone where she was.
He paused and thought about what he knew. Based on what he had seen on the drive to the hospital, he’d deduced they must be in a small town, not a big city. And Sofia had seemed familiar with the doctor, so clearly, people knew one another around the town.Perhaps it isn’t totally hopeless.
Night had already fallen, and the air was cold as he exited the hospital. A convenience store sat across the street, its windows painted with winter scenes, and Isaiah crossed the road then went inside. He felt his pockets before dropping his hand.Of course, no wallet.
“Can I help you?” a woman called from the counter.
Isaiah racked his brain.Should I ask her about Sofia? Would that seem too strange?He didn’t know the dynamics of the town. He thought back to the conversation Sofia had had withDr. Margo, which he’d barely been able to hear snippets of as they’d spoken outside his room.
Something in his short memory history clicked. Dr. Margo had said something about having fun at a party that night.
“I was invited to a party by a friend, but I’m not sure where it is.” The lie felt unnatural again, and Isaiah stuck his hands in the pockets of his coat.
The cashier didn’t look suspicious at all, though. “It’s probably the one up at the Emerald House. Just continue straight up the hill here, and you’ll run right into it. Who’s your friend?”
“Ash,” Isaiah said after a moment’s hesitation, thinking of the man who had given him a ride to the hospital.
The cashier’s face lit up. “Ah yeah. It’s definitely at the Emerald House, then. Have fun. I’ve heard their New Year’s Eve bash is a blast.”
Isaiah’s eyes widened with surprise, and he tried to quickly smooth his expression into one of excitement.It’s New Year’s Eve?Could that have anything to do with my memory loss? If so, how?
“I’m looking forward to it. Thanks for the information, ma’am.”
The woman laughed. “I don’t get called that too much around here. You’re welcome,sir.”
She’s surprised that I called her ma’am? Is that a clue to my identity? Do I come from somewhere where saying “ma’am” is common? Does that signal the South?No one had mentioned his having an accent. Though he supposed you could be from the South and not have an accent.
“Happy New Year,” he said despite the barrage of questions her words had triggered. He brushed out the door, the chilly air barely registering as it hit his face. For the moment, he had a plan.
