"I don't know," I said.

She stared.

"Maybe you don't. Maybe . . . this is a blessing in disguise. Yes," she said, her face lighting up and her eyes widening, "it is."

She left again and for what seemed like quite a long time. When she returned this time, she had a white terry cloth robe in her hands.

"Get out. Dry yourself off and put this on," she said. "Someone will be here for you soon."

"Someone?"

Good, I thought. There was someone. Surely, I would remember everything soon. I crawled up and out of the tub with great effort. My body was beyond exhaustion, the muscles working on their own memory and not my commands. It seemed to take me forever to dry myself. She grew impatient.

"For God's sake," she said and seized one of the towels. She began to rub me vigorously. I felt as if she would peel away my skin. My every movement was still filled with pain and I ached everywhere.

"There," she said. "Now put on the robe and return to that bed," she instructed.

I did what she said. The moment my head hit the pillow and I closed my eyes, I fell asleep. I woke when I heard voices near and above me. My eyelids refused to stay open at first and then, with stubborn effort, I did get them to do so.

Coming into focus was a tall woman in a starched white uniform. She stood next to the small elderly lady. The woman in white scrutinized me a moment and then made a small, tight smile.

"Hello. My name is Clara. What's your name?" she asked and took my wrist into her fingers to feel for my pulse.

"My name's . . My name's . . . I can't

remember!" I cried.

The woman looked at the elderly woman and then back at me.

"Do you know whose home you are in?"

I shook my head.

"How old are you?"

"I don't know."

"How did you get here?" she followed quickly. "I don't remember. Where am I?"

"Are you home?"

"Am I?"

"See?" the elderly lady said.

"Yes. It's classic, I think," the woman in white said. "Her pulse is strong."

"It's not her pulse I'm worried about," the small elderly lady said.

Clara nodded.

"You understand what I want and how I want it done," the elderly lady said.

"Precisely. You have made the appropriate phone calls, I imagine?"

"Of course," the elderly lady said. "It's all arranged. I'm relying on your discretion. You will be rewarded," she added.

Clara smiled. "You won't be disappointed."

Tags: V.C. Andrews Logan Horror
Source: readsnovelonline.net