Page 9 of Montana Memory

As if she could hear my thoughts, the curtain rustled, and a woman stepped inside, her gaze sharp and assessing. Late forties, maybe early fifties, with a no-nonsense air and dark-framed glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. She scanned the tablet in her hand before looking at me directly.

“Jada Doe, is it?” Her tone was calm, but there was a thread of curiosity underneath.

“That’s what they put on the intake form.” I shrugged, the fabric of the hospital gown stiff against my shoulders. “Seemed better than ‘Jane.’ I was told my name was Jada.”

Her lips twitched, like maybe she appreciated the dry humor, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took me in. “I’m Dr. Hensley. Let’s start simple—how are you feeling?”

How was I feeling? Terrified. Unsteady. Like I was standing on the edge of a cliff with no idea what was at the bottom. But none of that would help her.

“Tired,” I said instead. “Sore.”

She nodded like that made sense. “You’ve got a lot of bruising. Some of it older, some newer. Do you have any idea how you got them?”

“No.” The word felt heavier than it should. “I don’t remember anything before two nights ago.”

Her expression didn’t change, but something in her posture shifted. A quiet concern. “And no head trauma that you know of? No dizziness, nausea?”

I hesitated. “No head wounds that I could find, but—” I swallowed. “When I woke up, my whole body hurt. My muscleswere stiff, and there was this deep, bone-level exhaustion.” My fingers twitched on my lap. “Like I’d been hit by a truck.”

Dr. Hensley’s brows pulled together as she reached for a penlight and gestured for me to look at her. I blinked against the sharp beam as she checked my pupils.

“Any flashes of memory? Even small ones? Faces? Names?”

I shook my head, something twisting in my chest. “Nothing. Just…instincts. I know how to do things—read, drive, tie my shoes—but I don’t know anything about myself.” My hands clenched against the blanket. “I don’t know if I have family. If anyone’s looking for me.”

The doctor didn’t immediately respond. Instead, she set her tablet aside and moved to the side of the bed. “Let’s take a look at those injuries.”

I stiffened as she carefully prodded along my ribs, her fingers pressing gently against the bruised skin. A sharp sting shot through me when she touched a particularly sore spot near my side, and I sucked in a breath.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her brow furrowing. “No fractures, but definitely some deep tissue bruising.”

She moved lower, her fingers brushing the small burn on my side. “This is from a stun gun.” It wasn’t a question.

I swallowed. “I figured.”

Her gaze flicked up to mine, quiet understanding there. “You remember the feeling of it?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “Not the moment it happened, but…it’s like my body knows what it feels like.”

She studied me for a long beat before nodding. “I’m ordering a CT scan. Your memory loss could be neurological, but we need to rule out anything physical.”

I barely nodded before she continued. “You’re not homeless.” Her voice was matter-of-fact. “Your clothes are high quality, your shoes too. You don’t look malnourished or like you’ve beenon the streets.” She hesitated, eyes scanning my face again. “And you don’t seem like you’re on drugs.”

I frowned. “I don’t think I am.”

“No signs of withdrawal,” she agreed, tapping something into her tablet. “But we need to find out who you are. Would you be okay with us taking your fingerprints? We can run them through the system, see if we can get an ID. It could help us notify family.” A pause followed. “And the hospital will want you to know who you are for insurance purposes.”

I should’ve immediately said yes. It made sense. It was the logical thing to do. But my mind flashed back to Hunter, to the warninghe gave to lie low. I still didn’t know why. Didn’t know what I was running from. But how could I keep hiding when I didn’t even know from whom?

I forced myself to nod. “Okay.”

Dr. Hensley offered a small, approving nod of her own. “I’ll get security to set up fingerprinting, and someone will be by to take you for your CT scan.”

Then she stepped out, letting the curtain sway back into place.

I exhaled slowly, curling my arms around myself as I stared at the thin fabric. Something told me answers were coming.

I just wasn’t sure if I wanted them.

---