Marina Cranston stared at the blank hospital walls that had surrounded her for the last week. The staff had told her she was in Marywood Community Hospital. She had no idea where Marywood was located. She was from a town that bore her last name, but she had no idea where it was in relation to where she was now. She had no idea how she was related to those for whom the town was named--or even if she was related. In fact, she knew very little about herself.
She was thirty-five--they'd told her that along with her name--and she must not have family nearby. No one had come to see her.
Getting out of the hospital bed, she walked to the window, thankful someone had brought her regular pyjamas, though she had no idea who it had been. Perhaps someone on the staff had felt sorry for her. She'd have to find out who so she could thank them.
Sightlessly, she stared outside with her arms crossed over her chest. Where would she go from here? The hospital couldn't keep her in this room forever, even if she did have amnesia. There was nothing physically wrong with her--well, other than having no memory. To some, she supposed, that was a physical problem. Since no one had called or visited, maybe her life wasn't worth remembering...
This whole situation was ridiculous. A therapist had come in and tested her. Marina remembered the President's name, how to write, the meaning of every word spoken by the woman, but when asked on what street she lived, her favourite food, her mother's name... Nothing.
Her doctor had theorised that she might be sub-consciously blocking something. It must be a huge 'something' if it had taken all her personal memories.
"You can't go in there!"
"We've waited all damned week! We're going in. Call security. I'll call my lawyers," a man's voice growled.
"Only her family is allowed."
"We're the only family she has!" another male voice protested.
Marina turned and pressed wide-eyed against the window at the sound of the commotion just outside her room. The door flew open, and two well-dressed but haggard-looking men stood in the doorway. A nurse trailed them, babbling about rules and next of kin and violations. Her words faded as Marina stared at the tall, dark-haired men. Their concerned gazes were trained on her as they completely ignored the nurse.
"Baby..." the one with blue eyes said. He stopped inches from Marina, his hands framing her face. His thumbs skimmed over her cheekbones where she knew bruises marred her pale skin. He swallowed as his stare took in all of her.
The other man pressed close. His lips caressed her shoulder, and he inhaled deeply as if breathing her in. "Thank God, you're okay," he murmured.
Her hands came up of their own accord, one going around each man. She knew she should be scared--she had no idea who these men were--but fear was the farthest thing from her emotions. An oddly familiar comfort blanketed her. For whatever reason, their presence eased some of the panic that had assailed her all week. They knew her. And they could fill some of the blank spaces in her head.
)
