Stolen memory

Adrian and Evelyn froze the moment Calen spoke.

"She's awake," he repeated, still staring at his phone, the words barely sinking in.

Evelyn's eyes widened. "What did you say?"

Calen looked up at both of them, more certain now. "The hospital just called. She regained consciousness."

Adrian immediately stood up. "Come on, let's go," he said, already reaching for his coat.

"Wait—at least eat something quickly before we leave," he added, glancing at the untouched plates on the table.

But Evelyn shook her head, already stepping away. "No, there's no time. We need to go now."

Adrian frowned. "Did you even eat anything?"

"I'll eat later," Evelyn said without missing a beat. "We've waited long enough. She's awake now. That's what matters."

Her urgency was clear. Whatever questions lingered, whatever emotions Damien had left behind minutes ago—none of it mattered anymore. Right now, a girl who had nearly died had opened her eyes again.

The three of them left the restaurant in haste, the air tense with anticipation. Questions burned in their minds.

Who was she?

Calen, Evelyn, and Adrian arrive at the hospital, their pace quick and tense as they follow the nurse down the hallway. The fluorescent lights above flicker faintly as if echoing their restlessness.

"She has gained consciousness," the nurse tells them. "But the doctors need to do further testing. Please wait outside the recovery room."

Without a word, they sit on the long steel bench placed along the pale green wall. Evelyn's eyes stay fixed on the closed door of the room, her fingers wringing the end of her scarf. Calen leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, trying to steady his thoughts. Adrian remains still, arms folded, lost in calculations neither financial nor logical.

Inside, the atmosphere is quiet.

The girl lies on the hospital bed, her gaze flickering uncertainly across the white ceiling above her. Her breathing is shallow, her expression blank. A doctor steps in quietly, holding a clipboard, and walks to her side.

"You're awake," he says with a gentle smile, checking her IV and vitals. "How are you feeling? Can you hear me?"

She blinks slowly, turning her head toward the voice. Her lips part slightly, confusion settling into her wide eyes.

"Where… am I?" she whispers.

The doctor pauses. He leans forward slightly.

"You're safe. You had an accident. We brought you here. Do you know your name?"

The girl's brows furrow. Her eyes scan the room again as if searching for something that could explain the gap in her mind. Her voice breaks as she speaks.

"I… I don't know."

The doctor freezes.

For a moment, there is only the soft beeping of the heart monitor in the background. He exchanges a quick glance with the nurse standing by the door.

"She doesn't remember anything," he says under his breath. "Begin the neurological tests. Don't inform the people outside yet."

The nurse nods and leaves the room silently to prepare.

Outside, the three still wait.

Evelyn glances at the clock for the fifth time. "Why is it taking so long?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Calen doesn't respond. He stares at the floor, deep in thought.

Adrian leans back slightly, sighing. "Let's just hope everything is normal."

But inside the room… nothing is normal.

And none of them know yet — that the girl who opened her eyes remembers absolutely nothing… not even herself.

The door to the girl's recovery room opens slowly. Evelyn rises from her seat in one swift motion, her heart pounding with hope. Adrian stands beside her, alert. The doctor steps out, holding a clipboard, his expression calm but unreadable.

Evelyn takes a breath. "Doctor… what happened? Is she alright?"

The doctor adjusts his glasses and looks at both of them. "Her vitals are stable. There's no immediate threat to her life."

Evelyn feels a wave of relief begin to wash over her, but the doctor doesn't stop there.

"However," he adds, "I can't give you a complete update just yet. We still need to run more neurological tests before we can confirm anything about her cognitive condition."

Adrian folds his arms. "You mean her memory? Her brain function?"

The doctor nods. "Exactly. Until then, it's too early to say anything clearly."

Evelyn tries to smile, nodding slowly. "Alright… do what's necessary."

Inside the room, a nurse gently adjusts wires as the girl continues to lie in confusion. She doesn't resist, but her eyes flicker nervously as the machines beep quietly beside her. Her mind is blank, questions forming she doesn't even know how to ask.

Outside, tension fills the corridor again.

Suddenly, Adrian's phone vibrates. He glances at the screen. His expression shifts.

"It's from the company," he mutters, stepping aside to take the call.

He listens quietly for a few seconds, then his expression sharpens. He ends the call and turns to Calen, who watches him carefully.

Adrian lowers his voice. "It's about Damien. Something's going on back there."

Calen's jaw clenches. Without a second thought, he grabs his phone. "I'll go. You stay here with Mom."

Before Adrian can reply, Calen is already walking briskly toward the elevator, pulling out his access badge on the way.

Back near the nurses' station, the doctor emerges again after another set of internal instructions.

"We've completed her initial neurological testing," he says. "Now we're moving to blood work, EEG, CT scan, and a full MRI."

Adrian raises an eyebrow. "That sounds like a lot."

"It is," the doctor replies calmly. "It may take three to four hours depending on how quickly we can get all the scans done."

Evelyn sighs, clearly exhausted, her eyes still trailing toward the patient's room. After a pause, she turns to Adrian.

"Let's go home for a while," she says softly. "You need to eat. I'll take a quick rest, and I'll bring something back for that girl too. She might feel hungry when she regains strength."

Adrian nods slowly. "Alright… but let's not take too long."

The two of them begin walking down the corridor in silence, steps slow and heavy, as behind the closed door — a nameless girl lies alone, caught in the terrifying stillness of forgetting everything she once was.

Inside the car, silence hangs between Evelyn and Adrian as they head home. The city moves around them — honks, sirens, the rush of mid-day traffic — but inside the vehicle, it's quiet. Still.

Adrian focuses on the road, but glances sideways every now and then. He can sense it — Evelyn is deep in thought.

She stares out the window, fingers lightly resting near her chin, eyes unfocused. Her mind isn't here. It's drifting — backwards.

Back to the past.

Back to that day.

They reach the villa. The staff open the gate, and the car rolls to a smooth stop. Without exchanging many words, they enter the house.

Evelyn heads to freshen up. Adrian removes his watch and sits in the living room, head leaning back against the couch. Both of them carry exhaustion that isn't just physical.

Later, they have a quiet lunch together at the dining table.

There's still something heavy in Evelyn's chest — a thought that won't let go. She finishes her food and moves to Adrian's side on the sofa, sitting close, hands folded.

She speaks softly, her voice almost distant.

"If that accident hadn't happened that day… don't you think all our lives would have been completely different?"

Adrian remains still for a moment, processing her words. Then he exhales deeply and nods.

"Yes… they would've."

Silence returns again, but now it's filled with a shared ache — of possibilities that were lost.

After a while, both of them lean back and close their eyes, deciding to rest. Their bodies need it, but their minds never truly stop.

Two hours pass.

The front door opens.

Footsteps echo through the hallway.

Calen steps in, his shirt sleeves rolled up, a folder in his hand and tension on his face. Evelyn stirs and sits up, and Adrian straightens himself as Calen walks into the living room.

"You're back already?" Adrian asks.

Calen nods, tossing the folder onto the coffee table. "Yes. I thought it was important to tell you both what's going on."

He sits down, voice serious.

"There's movement in the market. Damien's influence is affecting investor confidence. Shareholders are being swayed. Some companies close to us are under pressure. Clients are being convinced to pull back or hold negotiations."

Evelyn's face tightens. "Is he trying to collapse us from the outside?"

Calen nods grimly. "He's not attacking us directly. He's shaking the branches first. If the customers back down, the tree falls on its own."

Adrian leans forward, eyes narrowed. "How far has he gone?"

"Not full damage yet," Calen says. "But it's enough to start cracks. If we don't counter quickly with strategy — reassurance, pricing holds, and backup proposals — things will spiral."

He opens his laptop and begins showing them reports.

But Evelyn's heart still lingers on something else… not just numbers or stocks — but on a nameless girl in a hospital bed.

And a boy from their past, now turned into a storm that threatens everything they built.

Just as Calen finishes briefing Evelyn and Adrian on the state of the market, his phone vibrates again — this time with a distinct tone. It's the hospital.

He quickly answers, voice firm. "Yes, this is Calen."

He listens carefully for a moment, then looks up.

"They've completed all the tests. They want us to come."

Evelyn rises at once. Adrian follows, his features drawn and tense. None of them speak as they rush to the car and drive straight back to the hospital.

When they enter the private ward, the atmosphere feels heavier than before. The girl is no longer lying unconscious — she's now sitting upright on the bed. Her posture is stiff, her fingers nervously clutched around the bedsheet, and her expression blank, almost frightened.

She turns slowly as the three of them step in.

Her eyes land on them, but there's no flicker of recognition.

The doctor stands beside her. Upon seeing the visitors, he excuses himself, leading the three outside into the corridor for privacy.

"She's conscious," he says quietly. "Physically stable. But the damage to her memory is real."

Evelyn's breath catches.

"She doesn't remember where she is, how she got here… not even her own name. The impact to her head — the blow from the stone — has caused significant retrograde amnesia."

Adrian frowns deeply. "How long could this last?"

"There's no fixed timeline," the doctor replies. "It might return in days, or it might take months. In some cases… it never comes back."

Silence follows.

Without another word, the three of them return to the room.

The girl watches them quietly, uncertain and afraid. She shifts on the bed, her lips parting as they approach.

Her voice is a whisper, but it slices through the silence.

"Who… are you?"

Evelyn walks forward, slowly… her heartbeat echoing in her ears. She sits down beside the girl and takes her hand.

With a composed voice, hiding all the fear and conflict inside, Evelyn looks directly into the girl's confused eyes and says:

"I'm your mother."