I nod, not wanting him to go, but also determined to prove my levels of chill. I’m not the weirdo who’s got an insta-obsession with her savior. So not me.

The doctor does a lot of the same checks Nurse Julie did, humming and nodding his head as he questions and examines me. “We’re going to run more tests, but it seems you got very lucky, Lark. No broken bones or other internal injuries. You’ve got a nasty lump on your head, and a CT scan is next, but I’m not seeing indications of serious head trauma.”

“But I don’t even remember my last name or anything else about me. Isn’t that stuff I should know?”

He jots something down on his tablet. “More doctors will be evaluating you. But there’s something else.” He pauses, frowning. “On the X-ray, I noticed healed fractures in your metacarpals. The bones in your fingers. And one in the ulna of your left arm. Do you remember those injuries?”

“No.”

“I also noticed fading bruises on your legs and torso. They appear to be older, not from the car accident. Along with the healed fractures, they’re consistent with injuries in abuse victims.”

Abuse?“I told you. I don’t remember.” My voice shakes.

It takes a long time for him to answer. “All right. But if you do, we have resources for you. I’ll grab some pamphlets.”

Danny, please come back. But I don’t call for him. Instead, I shove down those fearful feelings. The doctor leaves, and I muster up all my strength and will to stand up. I totter into the bathroom without ending up on the floor, my IV cart tagging along with me.

I pee. Wash my hands. My reflection catches my attention. The woman in the mirror is familiar. I don’t exactly know her, even though I know that she’sme.

This woman is young, but she’s got fine lines near her eyes and around her mouth when she frowns, as if she does that a lot. Her hair is dark, almost midnight black, trailing to her elbows. Bright green irises. Tattoos of vines, leaves, and flowers run up and down her arms.

Small bandages dot my reflection’s face, with bruises cascading along one side of my head.

Carefully, I reach down and tug up my hospital gown. More bruises mar the skin of my legs and stomach. Most are from the car accident, I assume. But others are mostly faded, just outlines. Older. Like the doctor said.

Someone gave me those bruises. I know it like I knew my name before, although I still can’t remember how the bruises happened. Or what they mean.

They’re clues to a mystery I can’t begin to solve.

And I’m standing right here at the center of it, alone. Except for Danny.

5

I’m in the hallway again, and the doctor is still with Lark. It was Matteo who called me, following up with a text asking to chat alone, away from the prying ears of Nina.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

He gives me an update on how Nina isreallydoing, and I’m thankful she decided to take her afternoon pain pills and a nap. Each day is a little different for her. Some days, she’s up and walking around, chatting and laughing. Other times, the pain in her bones gets so bad she can’t leave her bed. She gets short of breath and needs oxygen, or she’ll feel too tired or sorrowful to speak. Balancing the right amount of pain meds is always a juggling act. Too little is excruciating, but too much dulls her to the world. The risk of overdose is terrifying and ever-present. But right now she’s resting peacefully, and for that I’m grateful.

After I say goodbye to Matteo, I check on the DoorDash order I placed a little while ago. It’s almost here. By the time the doctor leaves Lark’s room, I’ve got a bag of In-N-Out in my hand. I knock on her door.

“It’s me,” then I add, “Danny.”

“Come in.”

I push open the door. “Hey, still hungry for that cheeseburger?”

Lark is climbing back into bed. She must’ve been using the restroom. “Are you kidding?Thank you. You really are a lifesaver.” Once she’s settled in bed, she grabs the bag and digs right in.

I ordered plenty for both of us, unless she has some kind of superhuman appetite. But I’m happy to be the bearer of cheeseburgers and reassurance, whatever I’m able to give her. Contrary to Nina and Matteo’s assumptions, I’m not going to abandon this girl. Even if I do have to get back on track soon.

But when will that be? Looking at her, that’s not a question I can answer.

Lark polishes off her burger and starts on her fries, pounding them like she hasn’t eaten for a week. With her skinny frame, I’d believe it. I’m not saying she isn’t pretty, though. With her creamy skin, pink mouth, and long lashes, Lark is plenty easy on the eyes.

Enough noticing, I tell myself.

She hands the second burger to me, and I unwrap it. “Sure you don’t want this one too?”