I stood there, staring at Alessia, as if she had been diagnosed with dementia or something. How could she not remember everything that was happening right now. How could that be?
“You mean, you do not remember anything?” I questioned. I leaned against the counter, folding my arms across her chest. When she heard my question, she had a look on her face that spoke of being nervous and scared, and she shook her head with confusion.
“No, I do not remember anything. What happened?” She spoke, sitting down in the chair next to my mother. I watched her for a moment, not sure if I should believe her. For all I know, this could be an act and she was playing the both of us. I glanced over at my mother, who nodded her head at me to let me know that it would be okay for me to answer.