Episode Three

Chapter Three-

*First Person's Perspective*

~Amanda~

"She looks..."

"I'm glad we..."

I heard voices, faint and distant. Muffled, like whispers. I rolled on my sides, my eyes still shut, the scorching pain radiating in my head, stirs a feeling of hopelessness in me

I try to remember how I had gotten into this situation in the first place, but my head is blank. Nothing comes up.

"Maleek, her fingers shook, I think she's awake" I hear a voice say, this time it's clearer and I can hear it just beside me, I peeled my eyes open. Though my sight is blurry, I still take in my surroundings. Two pairs of eyes are staring down at me with a mixture of curiosity and concern

I rise up from the bed, turning my head around, "where is this place?" I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper

I struggled to sit up, my vision still blurry, but I saw two figures standing beside me. The first thing I noticed were their eyes, full of concern, and something else... curiosity? They looked at me like they knew something I didn’t.

“Where am I?” I muttered, barely able to get the words out, my voice hoarse, like I hadn’t spoken in days.

"You're safe," one of them said, their voice gentle but firm. "You're in our home. You’ve been unconscious for a while," the other added, their tone just as calm but filled with a quiet urgency.

I blinked, my mind racing. “What happened? What's going on?” My chest tightened, but I couldn’t remember anything. Not my past, not even my name. I tried, I really did, but my mind was a blank canvas, wiped clean.

The man with dark eyes, who I assumed to be Maleek, exchanged a glance with the woman beside him, Aaliyah. Their faces were etched with concern. "You were... you were attacked," Maleek said, his voice tight. "We saw the whole thing from a distance."

Aaliyah nodded in agreement. "We were on a road trip, following behind a van when we saw them... when we saw them try to..." She trailed off, the words hanging in the air as they both seemed to struggle to find the right way to explain it.

My mind spun, trying to process what they were saying, but it all felt like gibberish. "Who tried to... What are you saying? I don’t remember anything. I don’t even remember who I am."

Maleek and Aaliyah exchanged another glance. It was then that I noticed the surprise in their eyes, the realization sinking in that I truly had no memory of anything.

"You don't remember anything?" Maleek asked softly.

I shook my head. "No. I don't... I don't know who I am."

Aaliyah smiled warmly, her hand resting on my arm. "It's okay," she said, her voice full of compassion. "We’ll help you. Find out, but first, tell us your name"

"My name is..." I stopped. Name. What was my name? I couldn't remember, It was at the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I just couldn't grasp what it was. Everything felt hazy

I turned to her with wide eyes and shook my head. "What is happening?"

She pulled me into an embrace and told me it's okay, she promised that everything would be fine

"For now, though, we’ll call you Sasha. Is that alright?"

I looked at them, confused, but something in their eyes reassured me. Maybe it was the kindness in their faces, the way they weren’t pushing me to remember. It didn’t feel like a choice, but somehow, I nodded. "Sasha," I repeated, the name feeling unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. "I guess I’ll be Sasha then."

---

Seven Years Later

The journey had been long, torturous even. I had worked tirelessly, pouring my heart and soul into my clothing brand. It hadn’t been easy. At all. There were days when I wondered if it was worth it, when I wondered if I was chasing a dream that would never come true.

I had spent countless hours designing, sketching, sourcing materials, and pushing through the pain of rejection after rejection. I had been to so many companies, sent out countless proposals, only to be shut down each time. I had no backing, no reputation to lean on.

I remembered the first time I walked into a well-known fashion company, armed with a proposal for a partnership. I was confident, eager, and ready to prove myself. But the cold reception I received shattered that confidence.

"So, you're a new brand?" the woman behind the desk asked, looking at me with barely concealed disdain. "You don’t even have the numbers to back up your claims. Why should we take a chance on you?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I had spent months preparing for this meeting, but nothing could have prepared me for the sting of her words.

"Look, it’s just that we work with established companies, brands that have a proven track record," she continued, barely glancing at my proposal. "We don’t have time to entertain ideas that aren’t going to pay off."

I wanted to argue, to fight for the chance I knew I deserved, but I could see in her eyes that it was pointless. The door was closed before I even had the chance to open my mouth.

I walked out of that meeting feeling like a failure, but I didn’t give up. I couldn’t. It wasn’t an option and with Maleek and Aaliyah by my side, my resolve only grew stronger. I kept pushing, kept trying. And eventually, something changed. My brand started to grow. Slowly at first, but eventually, it gained traction.

After four years of struggle, it finally felt like my time had come. I had become well known and recognized globally for my excellence.

And then, I received it, The nomination for the fastest rising fashion Icon Award show in New York. It had been a dream come true. The opportunity to be more recognised, to showcase my collection to a room full of potential investors and The thought of stepping into that world, the one I had fought so hard to be a part of, was overwhelming in the best way possible.

---

~New York City~

Carlos stood in the crowded mall, his son tugging at his sleeve, whining about wanting a toy. His son’s demands were getting louder, more insistent, and Carlos could feel the eyes of other shoppers on him. He didn’t have the money for the toy, but he didn’t want to disappoint his son.

"Please, Daddy, please!" his son begged, his small face contorted into a pout.

Carlos rubbed his temples, trying to find a solution, but all he could think about was the mounting pressure he felt. He glanced around, desperate to avoid causing a scene. He needed to get out of here before people started noticing the tension.

"Come on, let’s go," he said, attempting to usher his son toward the exit.

But then he froze.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw her.

Amanda.

She was standing near the entrance, her back to him, but even from a distance, he recognized her. The woman who had been a part of his life, a part of his past, the one he had lost. He stared at her, his mind spinning.

She was alive. But she didn’t look the same. She didn’t seem to recognize him. She looked completely different. She looked, weigh out of his league

"Amanda?" he called out, his voice shaking with disbelief. But got no response as she kept walking to her destination, he followed her from behind and when she noticed,

She turned toward him, and for a moment, it felt like time had stopped. Her expression was blank, her eyes scanning him with an unfamiliar curiosity.

"Do I know you?" she asked, her voice polite, but distant.

Carlos' heart sank. "It’s me, Carlos. Don't you remember?"

She raised an eyebrow, then glanced down at his son. "I’m sorry, I don’t think I know you," she said, her tone kind but distant. She handed him a few dollar bills and smiled at his son. "Take this for your son. He seems like a really sweet boy. Have a nice day Mister," she said softly before turning and walking away.

Carlos stood there, frozen, his mind reeling. He couldn’t believe what had just happened. This couldn’t be real.

Had she really forgotten him? Forgotten everything?

His son, still upset, tugged at his sleeve again, but Carlos barely noticed. He was too stunned, too confused. Was it possible? Had she really been the woman who had once meant everything to him?

Or was he just seeing things?

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