The Stranger In Room 205 (Hot off the Press! 1)

“Sam was the first name that popped into my head. I had to struggle a bit to come up with Wallace.”

She was looking at him as if a second head had just popped out on his shoulder. Sam crossed his arms tightly over his chest, feeling awkward and self-conscious.

“I can’t believe this,” she said after a pause. “It’s just too…” She couldn’t seem to find the word she was groping for.

“I told you it was hard to believe,” he muttered, wondering what it would take to convince her if she decided the whole story was a lie.

“You mean, you woke up in the hospital with total amnesia about who you are and what you were doing there? And you haven’t regained your memories during the three weeks that have passed since?”

“Technically, it will be three weeks tomorrow. And I’ve had glimmers of memory during those weeks, but nothing concrete. Images, a few dreams that felt real, but no names, no places.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said again.

“I can’t make you believe me, of course, but it’s the truth.”

“I think I need to sit down.” She moved to sit in one of the chairs, resting her elbows on the table, a stunned expression on her face.

Sam took the chair opposite her, the one he’d sat in while she’d administered first aid. She seemed to need a few minutes to digest what he’d told her, so he sat in silence, absently kneading his right thigh just over his bandaged knee.

“If you have amnesia, why didn’t you tell anyone? Why did you make up answers to everyone’s questions to keep them from finding out the truth?”

“Look, I know it was a stupid thing to do.” He shook his head. “All I can say is that I was hurting and confused—hell, maybe I was just plain scared—and I made some foolish decisions. I didn’t know how people would react to the truth—and I guess I just hated admitting I was…well, brain damaged.”

He watched Serena flinch in response to the term. A perfectly understandable reaction, he assured himself. Wasn’t it exactly what he’d expected?

“You said you’ve had some flashes of memory. Like what?”

He looked at his hands. “I remember being hit as a kid. I can’t picture my parents or remember anything about them, but I know what a backhand against my face feels like.”

“I wondered about that,” Serena murmured. When he gave her a questioning look, she explained, “You were so passionate about defending Zach from that jerk, Delbert. It seemed to go deeper than just a natural urge to protect a child.”

“I did identify strongly with Zach,” he admitted. “But I don’t know for certain what happened to me. The memories aren’t that clear.”

“I doubt those were memories you wanted to recall,” she said, sounding suddenly sympathetic.

He didn’t want her pity any more than he wanted skepticism. “Like I said, it might not even be true.”

“Were there other memories? Adult memories?”

“Disjointed images. Sitting in a restaurant. Fishing with a friend. Driving a fast car. Riding a horse. Sitting at a computer. Just…glimpses of activities that I don’t know if I actually experienced or if I just imagined them.”

She rubbed her temples, as if she was developing a headache. “Somewhere, there must be someone who is frantic with worry about you. Family, friends—” She swallowed. “A wife, maybe.”

He focused on his left hand. “No wedding ring. No ring tan, though there’s a pale strip where I must have worn a watch.”

“Not every married man wears a ring.”

“No. But I really don’t think I’m married, Serena. If I were, surely I would know. Somehow.”

“You don’t even know your name,” she reminded him.

This time it was Sam who winced. “I think I would know if I were married,” he repeated, wishing he sounded—and felt—more certain.

She twisted her fingers on the table in front of her, her gaze focused on his face. “There must be someone who’s looking for you.”

“I’ve spent quite a bit of time at the library, searching online for any missing person report that fit my description. I’ve even checked police missing persons files. No matches.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “You knew how to do all that?”