I awoke to the sound of Miss Parker’s deep breathing. Her hand rested on my bare chest, her face nestled against it, relaxed with sleep. I brought my hand up to softly touch her hair that spilled over my shoulder in long tangled strands. Asleep but not oblivious to my touch she snuggled closer to me and gave a soft snort.

I glanced at the alarm-clock and was surprised to find it was already ten o’clock in the morning. I wasn’t usually one to sleep in and Miss Parker had been up quite early every day due to her unsettling dreams. Today, however, we’d had both enjoyed several hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Now that the drowsiness was slowly lifting, the memories came back. Not how I had spent the night but the events leading up to it. It was like I was looking at two separate lives. I recalled our fight, the overwhelming disappointment that she’d been betraying me. Then came the transition when I had dried her tears, when she’d asked me to trust her and we’d started kissing.

With my judgement not only clouded but absolutely erased it hadn’t taken us long to end up where we were now. In bed.

Now my sense of responsibility had reawakened. How could I have been so stupid? Trusting her was the last thing on earth that I should be doing. But still, while dwelling on all these thoughts, I found myself absently playing with her hair.

This illusion was just too pleasant to chase it away, I decided.

I thought back to what Michael Grant had said. He’d not said that amnesia due to head trauma was impossible in her case. Just that it wasn’t very likely. And really: Miss Parker wouldn’t pretend to suffer from amnesia if there wasn’t anything in there for her, would she? And what would she possibly get of it? We’d been living together for over a week now. If she hadn’t called the Sweepers on me before, why would she now?

Moreover, as I had pointed out to her the previous evening: Up until now, running for four years, there had always been rules to our little game. She had been chasing me, yes, but when push came to shove, we’d always been able to work together. Miss Parker appeared cold-blooded, but in reality, she wasn’t. She did have a heart and it went out to those who needed it. The question was whether she was capable of this betrayal. Was she willing to deceive me like that? Would she got to such lengths to make me believe in some stupid amnesia?

It seemed unlikely... As unlikely as the head trauma causing amnesia?

There were a few strong reasons to trust her, but just as many against it.

My common sense told me to flee, but my heart told me to stay. If she really didn’t remember, she was truly lost without me and I didn’t want to leave her alone like that. Nobody deserved a life in uncertainty and loneliness.

From whatever angle I looked at it, everything came down to just one question: Did I believe her or not? But that, I couldn’t say.

How could I trust her if I couldn’t even trust myself?

Interrupting my musings, her hand suddenly came up to my face and pulled me down to her.

“Good morning,” she murmured, blinking against the sunlight, then softly started to kiss me. Unfortunately it had the same effect as the night before and my thoughts considering a possible betrayal were chased away by the desire to enjoy the moment.

I’d never expected denial to be so efficient. Denying the possibility that she was deceiving me worked perfectly, making me almost forget that I had ever doubted her. I knew that it was wrong and I hated myself for that weakness, but it just wouldn’t go away.

With all the self-control I could muster, I had banned Miss Parker from my thoughts. I managed to divert my attention from the topic of her whereabouts pretty well when I was at work. Sydney avoiding the topic, too, made it considerably easier.

With Miss Parker gone and Jarod obviously vanished from every Centre radar, too, we had been temporarily assigned to different projects. Sydney was doing some research and I was provided with a complete check of the Centre’s security software which was a lot of work, but at least kept me steadily occupied.

At home, however, it was more difficult.

Everytime I looked at Debbie, I felt my throat tighten. I reminisced about the time when I had found Miss Parker and Debbie getting along so well after she had taken her in for a few days. I also knew that Miss Parker deeply cared for my daughter and always had her best in mind.

How could the same woman even consider the possibilty to conceive a baby and then deliver not only its father but also the child itself to an organization she knew to be thoroughly evil? How could she be so heartless?

Miss Parker had been missing for almost six weeks now. Six weeks in which we had heard neither from her nor from Jarod. Three weeks in which Sydney had become unusually distant, the reassuring quietude completely disappeared from his eyes and replaced with a constant look of heartfelt anguish.

Although he did not voice it, the whole situation probably hurt him even more deeply than it did me. We were both offended, but he had lost his whole faith in her. I often caught myself thinking that he had only met her behaviour with such stoicism because deep down he had known that she wasn’t actually like that. That beyond the surface lay a more feeling, warm persona with moral values more complex than she showed to the outside world.

Now he had lost the confidence in that and the result was a deep depression that was coming on.

At the end of the sixth week of her disappearance I came home to my daughter and for the first time since Miss Parker had sobbed at my shoulder, didn’t feel completely lost. It felt almost as if I’d overcome the worst of it all.

A little ray of sunshine beamed beyond the dark field my life had become when my daughter welcomed me with a hug and a kiss and proudly showed me her attempts at cooking.

We sat down for dinner and I realized, touched, that she had even lit candles. She, too, had sensed my sorrow and this was her way to reassure me that I was not alone.

We chatted lightly during the whole dinner and it was only when she served the dessert, consisting of lemon ice-cream, that she mentioned Miss Parker.

“We might invite Miss Parker next time,” she said. “She likes lemon ice-cream a lot. When I stayed with her, she made bowls for the two of us! You know, she doesn’t really eat a lot but she even got a second one.”

Her beaming smile usually served to make me happy, but this time, it cut through my heart like a knife.

The images I had conjured up and tormented myself with came back with flourish and swept over me like a wave that threatened to drown me.

“Daddy? What’s wrong?” The words barely penetrated the clouds that seemed to have formed around my head.

If the mere mentioning of Miss Parker got me into this state… what would happen when she’d come back.
And she would. Eventually.

I usually don’t bother with the petty research jobs, you know. Looking for information I normally leave to people who have sufficient time and patience.
I like to have the results clearly in order so I can decide how to use them to my own advantage, but with this thing I didn’t trust anybody else.

Not after I’d seen how easily a secret can leak if two morons feel safe.

Due to that fact it was me myself who roamed the offices of the more important Centre-operatives, who charmed the secretaries into oblivion and made them believe that I was there only to see their stupid little faces on whose cheeks I usually caused a flattered blush.

And this time I was patient. I would find out what was going on. Even if it would take me weeks.

And then I’d make sure that it would work to my advantage. Much as anything did these days.

I smiled at my father’s secretary and produced a single yellow tulip I had carelessly ripped from a bunch in the hall. She smiled widely at me and I merely lifted a suggestive corner of my mouth in response.

This was almost too easy.

I looked up from the patient-files I had been working on and watched Miss Parker turn the page of the paperback-novel she was reading, eagerly concentrating on the words. Since she was completely absorbed in the thriller I could look at her without her being annoyed at me.

The wound on her forehead had healed, leaving only a light scar that would fade with time, her hair fell freely over her shoulders and she had curled up on her side slightly, one hand holding the book, the other one always waiting to quickly turn the page.

Our blossoming relationship had taken away the edge of her need to find out about her past and although I knew that she was still suspecting that I knew more than I told her, she had stopped asking. It was some kind of silent agreement that we had committed to. I trusted her on her alleged amnesia and she postponed her questions to a later point in time.

We both knew that this wouldn’t go on forever, but it had worked during the last weeks and I found myself growing more and more attached to her every day.

I had always known that she was capable of being my perdition, I just wouldn’t have expected it to happen this way.

When had I started being ready to forget about all my questions and set my suspicions aside for the sole purpose of being able to just be with her?

It was a trashy outlook that I had on our relationship but I just couldn’t help it. I had been in love before, but not like that. The other women I had been with, had temporarily stirred feelings inside me, but they had never reached this intensity.

“Are you staring at me again?” She asked, her voice as razor-sharp as usual.

“Sorry,” I said, quickly returning to my papers, but not quite able to keep the smirk from my face.

This could have been a picture book romance if it hadn’t been for a mountain of unresolved issues from our past that would one day stirr up and have to be dealt with again.

She set the book aside and straightened up.

“You’re such a hopeless romantic,” she said with a note of disgust in her voice, that was contradicted by her mocking smile.

“I don’t like it either,” I replied honestly. Loving her this way made me uneasy and I still woke up at night, finding her sleeping next to me and wondering whether I should just get up and leave. Every so often I set my foot out of bed where it touched the floor but then she moved or made a sound and I couldn’t pretend to be able to leave anymore.

Still I knew that all of this was only temporary. I would have to move on, she would probably regain her memory and with my feelings for her that didn’t consist of sole desire anymore, it became more and more difficult for me to withhold her past from her every day.

She got up and walked over to me where she placed a kiss onto my cheek.

“I’ll go downstairs and make dinner,” she announced.

“You mean you’re going to put the lasagna into the microwave,” I pointed out to her. “Don’t forget to remove the polythene sheet this time.”
”Shut up!” she told me while walking out the door.

I grinned. She was a complete failure in the kitchen. Interestingly enough, she made fun of herself when it came to her cooking abilities but would still not allow me to use the particular word “failure” to describe it.

I had tried it out several times out of pure curiosity. Whatever mood she was in, whatever topic we were discussing, she would not allow me to refer to her as a failure even if it was obvious that I was just making fun of her.

It was one thing that was odd and helped me not drop my guard too much. But there were other traces that kept resurfacing and didn’t seem to match the rest of the situation.

There was, for example, the fact that she wouldn’t listen to me when I told her that she’d look great with black hair, but harshly told me not to be stupid. I was quite sure that she was not irritated with me because I tried to interfere with her handling of her own appearance, it was some very weird aversion to her old hairstyle that I could absolutely not make any sense of.

A few minutes later I got up and walked down the stairs. No shattering of plates, no minor explosions… everything seemed to be okay in the cooking department today.

I smiled to myself when I thought back to her forgetting a pizza in the oven which had resulted in a black cloud of smoke emerging that’d had both of us in coughing-fits when we’d entered the kitchen.

The smile of amusement died on my lips when I found her on the floor.

“Miss Parker!” I yelled, lurching forward, ready to kneel down beside her. Her eyes were closed, her body slumped on its side. She was quite obviously unconscious. I stroked her forehead and felt her skin burning hot under my fingertips.

“Parker?” I repeated, this time mercifully receiving a reaction. Her eyelids fluttered, her gaze slowly focused on me. Her hand flew to her stomach as she struggled to sit up but collapsed backwards again. She swallowed deeply, face distorted with pain, before she spoke softly: “Pain…” she managed, then let out a slow moan.

She was suddenly pale, sweat breaking on her face.

“Where?” I asked, reaching for her so she could take my hand and guide it the source of pain. I recognized at once what was happening when I felt her tightened stomach muscles.

Afraid to worry her too much with the revelation I was about to make, I carefully started to slide my arms under her body then lifted her into my arms.

“What’s happening?” she asked, her voice distant again.

“Have you been in pain before?” I asked her while I made for the door, grabbing the car keys from the board with some difficulty.

She nodded weakly. “Stomach-aches,” she replied, then smiled faintly. “Thought it was because of my food.”
”Have you been feeling dizzy and nauseous?” I asked, all Doctor again.

“Little bit…”

I should have thought of this earlier, I scolded myself, suddenly so angry with myself that I had failed to recognize her agony earlier.

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, her voice trailing off towards the end of the sentence. I carefully set her down on the passenger’s seat of my car and slid behind the wheel next to her. Her head had rolled back against the headrest and her eyes looked feverish.

“Don’t worry,” I told her. “You have a stomach ulcer.”

I watched her eyes widen despite her dazed state.

“Ulcer?” she rasped, horrified. “How can you tell?”

I directed my gaze at the street in front of us, hesitating before I answered. In restrospect I am quite sure that that was the reason I did not realize that we had a car following us.

“We ran some tests in the ER when you were first admitted.”

She gasped with pain, pressed her hand against her stomach and doubled over. That was the position she was still in when I pulled up in front of the hospital.

Centre Surveillance System

That same morning

Mister Parker is sitting at his desk, hands lying flat onto its shiny surface. In front of him, Sam, Miss Parker’s Sweeper is standing, hands clasped behind his back.

“It seems that she has chosen to make Jarod believe that she suffered from amnesia. I don’t know how she managed to stage that car-crash, but I think she is doing pretty well.”

Mister Parker nodds in silent appreciation, then bows his head slightly.

“That is my angel,” he says, approval audible in his voice. “She really is as smart as I thought she was.”

Sam looks uncomfortable, awaiting the next question.

“How is she progressing. I mean, when can we expect her to be back?”

Sam swallows, his discomfort increases visibly.

“I think she is doing well, Sir. She seems to have won his trust very quickly and thoroughly.”

Mister Parker nodds again, then gestures towards the door.

“I need to have that confirmed by her.”

“You want me to contact her, Sir?” Sam asks politely.

“Yes.”

Parker’s answer is short and harsh and Sam seems to understand that his appointment is over.

“Yes, Sir,” he says, then ushers out.

Mister Parker remains with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Miss Parker extended her hand towards me immediately when I entered the room and I grabbed it firmly, holding it between mine for a second.

“Don’t you worry too much, Dr. Dorian,” the attending nurse said with a tone of voice that spoke of dismay concerning my overreaction. It seemed that nurse Wilson still did not consider me a valuable member of the medical staff, but that very moment I couldn’t have cared less.

“Oh don’t be too friendly!” Miss Parker groaned at her, her voice hoarse but definetly strong enough to sound ironic. I had to stiffle a laugh when I saw Wilson’s eyes narrow at Parker’s comment.

“You should really sleep a little, Miss,” she snorted, knowing that insulting patients would be tolerated even from an established member of the hospital personell.

Miss Parker smiled weakly at me as I once again sat down at her bedside.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “At least a familiar face for me to wake up to this time.”
I placed a kiss onto her hand and was glad to feel the skin not hot anymore, but warm and soft under my fingertips.

“What did they say?” I asked her.

“Not much yet. They gave me medicine and told me to rest. That’s about it. You know the drill… they’re running all kinds of tests to check out whether I’m going to live.” Her speech was a bit slurred but otherwise she seemed to be okay.

“We’ll just have to wait for Doctor Hopkins,” I explained, gently caressing her arm to which she reacted with a smile.

“Jarod…” she said softly, making me look up into her eyes. “Thank you for being here.” She paused briefly, as if looking for confirmation in my eyes, then went on. “I guess it is kind of stupid, but…”

Whatever she had been about to say was lost in the noises Dr. Hopkins caused when she opened the door and had it slam shut behind her.

“Sorry,” she said, a little embarassed, but then had to smile at the look of our startled faces. I liked Dr. Hopkins. She was a great doctor and a very nice woman. When I’d been new to the hospital, she’d introduced me to the bars where the staff hung out after work so I could get to know people. Very nice of her, since she was married and had two kids she couldn’t wait to get home to as soon as her shift ended.

She smiled at Miss Parker and approached the bed.

“Sorry to interrupt the love-birds,” she sang, good humor in place although she’d been on duty for quite some time now. She was carrying a chart that she now flipped open. “I don’t have the results of the tests yet, Miss Parker,” she explained. “But that’s actually a formality.” She scribbled on the paper with a pencil and smiled up at us over her framed glasses that sat on the tip of her pointed nose. I smiled as I always had to when faced with her. One time you smiled at her jokes, the other time her clumsiness amused you. She was always good fun to be around and I felt the strain lifting from me. Miss Parker would be okay. Kate Hopkins would take care of that.

“So,” Kate said. “Looks like that ulcer of yours was pretty upset, but it’s good that you could tell us a bit of medical history on that. Made us get straight to the point without wasting any time on trying to diagnose anything else.”

She flipped the chart over with flourish and smiled reassuringly at Parker.

“You’re on painkillers right now and we’ve also given you something to calm that ulcer of yours.”

She tilted her head slightly. “So much for the good news.”

“Couldn’t you have told me the bad news first?” Miss Parker asked. “Would have spared me some false hopes I guess.”

She arrogantly raised her eyebrow and was greeted with only a shrug coming from Kate. She looked oblivious to Miss Parker’s hostile stare, but I was pretty sure that she was actually just confident enough to ignore it.

“The bad news is that I am pretty sure that you will have to listen to the lecture I am about to give you for a few more times during the next days since you’re living with Dr. Dorian here.”
Miss Parker sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Well… cut down on any alcoholic beverages you might be indulging. Be careful to stick to the diet I’m going to advise you and don’t overexert yourself in the first few days. If you do that, there’ll be no need for surgery but if you don’t, the ulcer might deteriorate and that will be a messy thing.”

Miss Parker nodded obediently. “Okay. I think I got it.”

I chuckled, earning myself a dark gaze.

“When will you let me out of here?” she asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” Kate answered. “Just for safety purposes.”

Miss Parker growled. “Don’t you think that I have spent enough time in this hospital lately?”

“Not quite enough.” Kate flipped the sheets of paper back over the chart with a beaming smile. “Have a good night, Michelle.”

“Don’t call me that,” Miss Parker snapped after her.

“Stop acting like that,” I told her when the door had closed behind Kate, once again hitting her in the back. “I like you better when you’re all sweet.”

She smiled a twisted smile. “You really have to earn that sweetness.”

“And she didn’t?”

“Can’t you just shut up and kiss me instead?” she asked to which I rolled my eyes and bent forward. Her moan was one of pleasure this time as I gently laid my arms around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer.

Since we didn’t have much else to do, we went on like that until a cough from behind made us break the kiss. Startled, I looked up at Nurse Wilson who hadn’t had the courtesy to make a little noise as she’d entered the room.

“Well, I see that you are busy, Doctor Dorian,” she said in a voice of steel, that would have sent me into fits of laughter hadn’t I been that embarassed. “But nonetheless I have a question for your companion.”

She said the word “companion” as if she’d actually had a more insulting expression in mind. There she stood, all grey curls and bony face, glaring at us.

“Fire right away, darling,” Miss Parker said in a saccarine voice, that served to darken Nurse Wilson’s expression considerably.

She held out Miss Parker’s chart, pen poised.

“I just need to know whether you remember the date of your last ulcer-surgery.”

Miss Parker raised both eyebrows. “I remember it as well as my date of birth or the first name of my mother. Not at all.”

She pointed at her head as if Wilson was a little kid she had to explain her condition to and said: “Complete amnesia! Remember?”

I didn’t exactly like Nurse Wilson but I completely understood her reaction as she slammed the chart down in front of Miss Parker.

“It says here that the admitting physician has been told about ulcer-surgery. Who would have informed them? Santa Clause?”

I hadn’t seen this coming. Sometimes shock makes you come up with a thousand excuses at once, but this time all I could do was remain completely silent.

“Jarod?” Miss Parker asked, pointedly, tilting her head in expectation.

“I…,” I began, my throat suddenly oddly constricted. “I noticed the typical scar while I examined you when you first turned up in my ER.”

The tension grew when I suddenly noticed an evil smile appear on Nurse Wilson’s face. She had sensed my discomfort, knew that I was hiding something and although my explanation sounded quite convincing, it took her just an innocent question to rip it apart.

“You must be confusing something, Dr. Dorian,” she said, barely looking up from the chart she held. “Since I was present and do not recall you performing a full body exam.”

Her smile was so sweet that it would have sent a diabetic straight into unconsciousness. Miss Parker’s facial expression, however, was one of utter vigilance.

“Would you be so kind to leave us alone for a moment?” she curtly asked the nurse without looking at her.

“Of course, dear.” Nurse Wilson walked out and beamed at me from the door. Old witch.

“I’ll see you later, Dr. Dorian.”

My reply consisted of an unintelligible “hmpf”.

When the door had closed once again, Miss Parker struggled to sit up straight.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp and clear.

“Parker, I…”
She held up a hand to stop my ramblings. “Stop it, Jarod. Stop it for my sake.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Just tell me what you know.”
I closed my eyes briefly, willing her to just give it up.

“Tell me,” she ordered, making it very clear that she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t know where to begin…” I said.

“What’s so difficult about it?” she snapped angrily. “How do you know all about my illness and why didn’t you bother with telling me? Would have spared me quite some pain, wouldn’t it?”

She looked accusingly into my eyes.

“I… I just forgot.” I told her, earning a raised eyebrow and a snort.

“You forgot?”

Yes I did, I thought, filled with disbelief. It seemed that the ulcer had belonged to the old Miss Parker, to the self-torturing, neurotic, cold person that had walked around hating her life and everybody around her. I had simply not considered the possibility that it would come back to haunt her. I hadn’t even given a single thought to it. But how could I tell her that?

“Jarod, please.”

Faced with my long silence, she was growing impatient with me.

“We… we have known each other for a long time,” I began, shakily.

“How long?” Yes, she would have definetly been a great prosecutor.

“Since we were kids.”

Her eyes widened. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of what happened in the meantime.”

“And what was that?”

I would have felt really stupid telling her that she worked for an evil cooperation called the Centre to get me, a fugitive, back. It sounded like the climax of a trashy paperback-novel or the plot of a fast-lived B-movie. Still…

“We had… difficulties.”

“Difficulties?” Her voice had dropped and was dripping with irony now. Maybe it was that familiar tone that triggered my own aggression.

“Come on! We’ve played this game long enough, don’t you think?”

“So you still don’t believe me,” she said in a suddenly very cold voice. There was no anger left, she was obviously forcing the emotion out of her voice with just a trace of disappointment remaining.

“No.”

I could almost see her gaze cloud over. She was the master of disguising her emotions after all. She averted her gaze and turned away, at the same time throwing back the covers.

“What do you think you are doing, Miss Parker?” I asked.

“I am leaving. I’ve really had enough.”

She was unsteady on her legs for a second but then gripped the edge of the bed and reached for her clothes. I watched as she dressed, unsure what to do next. I wasn’t really a doctor, but even when just pretending to be one it was actually my responsibility to prevent a patient from harming herself.

Still, I was unable to move. This was just too convincing. Although I had just told her otherwise, I did believe her. But I was simply too afraid to cause my capture by means of my own stupidity.

She adjusted her jacket around her shoulders and shot me a last glare before she walked out of the door which slammed shut behind her. It was that noise that it took to make me finally realize what had just happened.

She had really left. For good… For good?

She was in no condition to leave the hospital. Where would she go? She didn’t even have her credit-card with her. I couldn’t let her go like that! Alarmed, I lurched forward, pushed the door open almost violently and ran down the hall.

It was only at the exit that I caught up with her. She had just got rid of Kate who had obviously tried to talk her out of leaving, but had not succeeded.

Suddenly I froze in place, staring down the hall at the person who had just approached Miss Parker and was talking to her now. Kate was coming my way but it felt like I was seeing through her, staring at a Centre Sweeper who was now holding Miss Parker by the shoulder to steady her.

Sam.

The wave of dizziness that overcame me was so strong that I had to hold on to the wall next to me. This wasn’t possible. This just wasn’t possible.

Miss Parker was apparently oblivious to my presence and just nodded as Sam gestured towards the door and slid his arm around her waist to help her to the black car that was waiting in front of the ER entrance.

I had never in my life felt so close to fainting, my stomach seemed to twist into knots, my legs nearly buckled under me.

I watched her through the window, getting into the car and leaning back inside. The backlights of the car vanished into the grey Decembre evening as I heavily sank down onto a bench in the hall.

Kate’s hand came up to my shoulder.

“Are you okay, Jarod?” she asked, concern clearly evident in her voice.

“She lied to me all the time…” I murmured quietly, but Kate understood me anyway.

“She’s just said the same thing about you,” she said and stroked my shoulder in a gesture of comfort that I could very well imagine her employing with her kids as well.

“I… I almost believed her…” I said and when my head gradually began to clear, I understood that I had to run. Maybe they had already called the other Sweepers on me. It would just be a matter of time until they came to get me. I scrambled to my feet and looked at Kate, almost sorry to have to leave a new friend behind.

“I have to go…” I said, my voice hollow and bare of all strength.

“Wait…” Kate held on to my arm to which I turned around and looked at her, feeling the urgency to leave and irritation at being held back.

“You better find her.” Kate said and elaborated as I frowned. “I just got the results from the bloodtests. She’s pregnant.”

“You should go back to your room!” The annoyingly cheerful doctor said and was ready to grab me by the arm.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” I snapped and stepped aside, which sent a fresh wave of dizziness through me.

“Try to be a little more sensible, Michelle!” she said sternly.

“How many times do I have to tell you that you are not allowed to call me that!” I almost yelled at her, resulting in a severe shortness of breath that I tried to counteract by inhaling the stale hospital air deeply and desperately.

“I was actually on my way to you, Miss Parker,” she emphasized. “I was going to tell you…”

“What?” I snapped.

“That you are pregnant.”

“I thought that this was about my ulcer!” I hissed impatiently, unable to force the strength to return to my voice, unwilling to let the piece of information actually reach me.

“It is. But you’re not very far along in your pregnancy, Miss Parker. You should go back and rest for the sake of your baby.”

“There’s no way I will go back. Jarod’s been lying to me all along.”

My head was swirling as I pushed her aside. Suddenly a man’s hand touched my elbow and I turned around, ready to tell Jarod to go to hell, when I looked into a face I had never seen before.

“Miss Parker,” the man said, holding on to my shoulder to steady me, who I hadn’t realized myself that I was swaying.

“What?” I croaked, unable to make sense of the turn of events. I felt dizziness come up with such force that his face was blurring in front of my eyes.

“I overheard your conversation with the doc. I think it’s time to go home.”

Home. Home sounded good. I just wanted to go home.

I took a step towards the exit but felt myself stagger slightly. It was him who caught me and gently slid his arm around my waist. I felt like leaning onto his shoulder. Cold air hissed into my face as we stepped out onto the parking-look. Drizzle of rain sprayed my face and I buried it on his arm.

He opened the door for me and helped me into the car.

“What…?” I managed while my surroundings slowly came into focus again. He was a big man with a friendly face that I thought I should know from somewhere, I just couldn’t recall where I’d seen him before. In passing, maybe?

I slowly came back to my senses and suddenly jerked fully awake with a start.

“Let me go!” I told him. “I have no idea who you are!”

He smiled uneasily. “It’s me. Miss Parker: Sam.”

I stared at him in disbelief. I had tried so hard to track everybody down to no avail and now my old life just came back to get me? Just like that?

“Sam?” I whispered. “I don’t know anybody named Sam.”

It was his turn to stare now as something seemed to dawn upon him.

“Oh my god, Miss Parker...”

I couldn’t speak, just felt my heart beat furiously inside my chest.

“You really have amnesia?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“Yes! Damn it!” I exploded at him. “Why is it that nobody will believe me?!”

He shrugged, obviously trying to calm my temper.

“I thought… you were just pretending to have lost your memory!”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“Why on earth should I do that?!”