Chapter 2

LISA’S POV

The drive to Andre's place was quiet.

Andre didn’t speak. Neither did I.

I sat in the backseat of the car, with the AC on full blast and wrapped in a coat Andre had offered me.

Trying to warm myself better, I hid my hands hidden under my thighs, so I don't get too cold.

I looked outside the tinted windows, the city, the traffic and the glass buildings. I recognized nothing. I felt like a tourist.

Everything seemed foreign. Including myself.

I got my blank mind busy thinking about Andre and why he had offered me a place when I was just a stranger. Why? What did he get out of helping me?

I guess even though I had lost my memory, I hadn't lost the feeling of being a burden on others. I didn't want to be a pity case.

Then we pulled onto a house that looked like a palace, and the driver drove us into a garage.

I stared at my environment, with my mouth wide open in shock.

We took a private elevator to the top floor, and when the doors opened, I took my first step into a house that was unbelievably majestic.

“Woah!” I said before I could stop myself.

I knew I had stepped into luxury.

Glass windows overlooking the city, chandeliers... You name it. The penthouse was very large, but very silent and neat. I felt like I had walked into a museum. The floor sparkled and not a single item seemed out of place.

“This… this is your home?” I asked quietly, stepping past him.

“It’s where I live,” he said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

Well, that was easier said than done.

Did he live here all by himself?

The living room looked nothing like a living room. I felt like I had arrived a luxurious hotel instead.

I felt like the only thing out of place in this house was just me, with my hospital gown and Andre's coat still on my shoulders. 

“Why are you doing this?” I suddenly turned to face him, sharply. “You don’t even know me.”

I felt an inexplicable feeling of low self esteem.

Andre walked past me, loosening his tie a bit. “I told you. I found you. I wasn't gonna leave you behind.”

“That doesn’t explain…,” I gestured to the apartment. “...why would you take someone like me in?”

He paused, “It’s complicated.”

I folded my arms. “Try me.”

He stared at me for a long time without speaking.

Then he suddenly he turned to seat on the couch and said, “I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.”

“Excuse me?” I blinked. “What?”

“Publicly. For a while.”

“Why?”

“Because… like I said, it’s complicated.” His tone didn’t change not angry, just final. “You needed help. I needed a solution. So, here we are.”

I stared at him, shocked at how nonchalant he made it seem.

I felt insulted.

No, flattered.

Or was I terrified?

I couldn't tell.

“I’m not asking for much,” he added. “Just… let people think we’re close. You’ll have everything you need, clothes, food, a doctor on call. You’ll be protected and cared for. You’ll be safe.”

There was that word again. Safe.

“If I say no?”

“Then I’ll have my driver return you to the hospital.” He said it simply. Somehow making it not sound like a threat, and yet there was no emotion in his voice. He didn't really care what choice I made.

I looked at the door.

I didn’t even know where I was, let alone who I was. Yet if I walked out right now, it would mean being alone again.

Maybe even worse.

What if this guy was a psycho? Or a serial killer?

I shook those thoughts from my head, and I swallowed. “Okay.”

Andre nodded once. “You’ll be addressed as Miss Lisa from now on.”

“Is that… my name?”

He didn’t answer. Just walked toward the hallway and called out, “Stanley!”

An older man appeared almost immediately. He was a bit short, and he was dressed like a butler.

“Yes, sir.”

“This is Miss Lisa. She’ll be staying with us for a while. Ensure her room is ready.”

Stanley turned to me with a polite smile, but his eyes weren't looking so pleased. “Of course. Welcome, Miss.”

He gave me an odd look, that almost seemed rude and could be considered as leering. Like he knew something I didn’t know.

What's up with him? I thought.

“Follow me, please,” he said, gesturing down the hallway.

I walked behind him in silence. His walking posture was so straight like a walking pole. The farther we went, the more everything felt unreal to me. Abstract art was displayed on the walls. Everything was… perfect.

When Stanley opened a door at the end of the hall, I stepped into a very large room, way bigger than the private hospital VIP suite I had just come from. The bed was king-sized, and there was a walk-in closet, stocked with clothes that looked my size.

There was even a vanity set, fresh flowers on the table.

“Wow,” I whispered. “This is so…”

“Stanley will bring anything else you need,” Andre said from behind me. I hadn’t even heard him follow. “You’ll find pajamas in the drawer. Take a rest. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

And then he was gone.

I took a very hot bath in my new luxury shower room in a marble bathtub.

I felt like I had been dropped into someone else’s life. I toweled off, dressed in the pajamas that were in the drawer, and climbed on top of the king-size bed sheets. It was so soft and smelled really good.

The moment my head hit the pillow; I slept off immediately.

But my moment of peace didn’t last though.

In my dream, I burst into a dark room, and the room was suddenly filled with light. My hands were shaking, stained red. I looked down, blood... so much blood. I heard a scream, but I wasn't sure if I was the one screaming. Then silence.

There was a body. A woman. Her throat was…

I screamed, covering my ears as I sat upright in my bed.

I was dripping with sweat, and I felt so cold. My heart was pounding so loudly I couldn’t hear anything else.

The door burst open, and Andre rushed in. His shirt was unbuttoned, and he looked very alert, scanning the room, as though he expected to see an intruder. “Lisa?”

I couldn’t speak. I was frozen.

He moved across the room so fast and grabbed my shoulders. His grip was tight.

“Hey. Look at me.”

I stared up at him, my heart was still pounding mercilessly in my chest.

“You’re safe now,” he said. “You’re safe with me.”

He released his hands on my shoulders slightly, as he used his thumbs to brush over my arms until the room finally started to settle again.

I nodded slowly, still trembling. “I… I saw…”

“Don’t think about it.” His voice lowered. “It’s over. It was just a nightmare.”

If it was, why did it feel so real?

Did it have anything to do with my past?

I remembered Dr Camille’s words from earlier, “... temporary trauma-induced…”

Trauma.

Did I kill someone?