CHAPTER 6

The first thing that returned was the smell: the sharp, stinging scent of antiseptic and bleach.

Then came the sound: a rhythmic, persistent beep... beep... beep... that hammered against the inside of her skull.

Evelyn groaned. Her eyelids felt as though they had been fused shut with lead. 

Every muscle in her body ached, but the back of her head felt like it had been split open by a hot iron.

"Evelyn? Oh, thank God! Evelyn, can you hear me?"

A hand, warm and trembling, grasped hers. 

Evelyn forced her eyes open, squinting against the harsh, fluorescent glare of the hospital room. 

Sitting beside the bed was a woman with frantic, red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Sarah?" Evelyn rasped, recognizing her best friend.

"Yes, it's me! You're okay," Sarah sobbed, a hysterical laugh escaping her lips as she pressed Evelyn’s hand to her cheek. "You scared me half to death! Do you have any idea what it was like finding you like that?"

Evelyn blinked slowly, the memories of the morning feeling like fragmented shards of a broken mirror. 

"What... happened?"

"I came by to surprise you for lunch because you weren't answering your texts," Sarah said, her voice shaking. "The front door was wide open. I walked in and found you... You were lying on the floor in a pool of your own blood, Evelyn. The foyer looked like a crime scene."

Sarah wiped a fresh stray of tears away with her sleeve. 

"The doctors said you have a severe concussion and required ten stitches. You've been out for nearly twenty-four hours."

Evelyn stared at the white ceiling, her voice a hollow whisper. "Am I... still alive?"

Sarah’s face hardened, and she swatted Evelyn’s arm lightly, her expression a mix of fury and love. 

"Don't you dare! Don't you ever say that! Of course you're alive. But I swear, if you ever scare me like that again, I'll kill you myself."

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to steady her erratic breathing. 

"The police asked questions, but I didn't know what to tell them. Your bags were all packed and sitting on the porch like you were headed for a vacation. And the house was empty. Where was Julian? Why wasn't he there? I called him ten times, and he never picked up."

Evelyn’s brow furrowed.

The name felt heavy in the air—a sound that should have meant something, but it only brought a dull, flickering static to her brain.

"Julian?" she repeated.

A shadow of a frown crossed her face as she tried to visualize a face to match the name. She saw flashes, a cold staircase, a woman with a large belly, a sharp pain in her cheek, but it was all disjointed, like scenes from a movie watched a long time ago.

"Yeah, Julian," Sarah said, her voice rising with indignation. "Your husband? The man who is supposed to be protecting you? I searched the whole house, but he was gone. He didn't even bother to stay and watch over you while you were bleeding out on the floor!"

Evelyn tilted her head slightly, a strange, vacant look entering her eyes. 

The confusion was so deep it was almost peaceful.

"Julian..." she whispered again, testing the weight of the syllables on her tongue. She looked at Sarah, her expression completely earnest and terrifyingly blank. "Who is... Julian?"

Sarah’s breath hitched. The hand holding Evelyn’s went cold. 

"Eve... that's not funny. Stop joking."

But Evelyn wasn't joking. She searched the empty hallways of her memory, looking for a man, a marriage, or a life, and found nothing but a vast, silent void.

"I'm serious, Sarah," Evelyn said, her heart rate monitor beginning to spike. "Who is Julian?"

Sarah’s face was drained of color. 

Panic flared in her eyes as she lunged for the emergency call button, stabbing it repeatedly. 

"Doctor! Someone! Help!"

Within seconds, the room was a blur of white coats. 

Evelyn was pushed back into the pillows, her vitals checked, and her pupils flashed with light, while Sarah was ushered to the corner, trembling.

After a tense examination, the lead physician, Dr. Aris, pulled Sarah aside. His voice remained loud enough for Evelyn to hear in her dazed state.

"The blow to the occipital region was catastrophic," the doctor explained, his expression grim. "If you had arrived even ten minutes later, she would have bled out. The impact caused a severe hematoma."

Sarah’s voice shook. "But why doesn't she know who her husband is? She asked me who Julian was, if she’d never heard the name."

The doctor sighed. "Traumatic brain injuries are unpredictable. In this case, it’s likely a combination of physical damage and a psychological defense mechanism. We also discovered during the emergency surgery that Evelyn was in the very early stages of pregnancy."

Sarah’s breath hitched. "She was... pregnant?"

"Yes. However, due to the force of the fall and the subsequent blood loss, she... she lost the baby." Dr. Aris adjusted his glasses. "Between the physical trauma and the extreme emotional stress she was under, her brain has triggered a dissociative block. It’s protecting her from the source of her pain. To her, 'Julian' is the person associated with the trauma. Her mind has simply deleted him to survive."

"Will she ever remember?" Sarah whispered.

"Perhaps. Memories might return in flashes, triggered by smells or sounds. For now, the void is her sanctuary."

Once the doctors cleared the room, leaving Evelyn in a light, medicated sleep, Sarah turned to the large bag she had rescued from the porch. She needed to find a journal or something to help her friend.

Frantically, Sarah unzipped the main compartment. She began tossing aside sweaters and toiletries until her hand brushed against a thick, stiff envelope. 

Pulling it out, her eyes widened as she read the bold, cold letters across the top.

DIVORCE SETTLEMENT AGREEMENT.

Her hands trembled as she flipped to the final page. 

There, in jagged, shaky ink that looked forced and messy, was Evelyn’s signature. 

Tucked behind it was the plastic card, the five-million-dollar price tag Julian had placed on her life.

The realization hit Sarah like a physical blow. Julian hadn't been "missing." He had stood over his pregnant, bleeding wife, forced her to sign away her life, and then left her to die so he could drive away with someone else.

"You monster," Sarah hissed, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the papers.

She looked at Evelyn, pale, broken, and blissfully unaware of the man who had destroyed her. 

A dark, protective resolve took root in Sarah’s heart.

If Evelyn had forgotten that devil, then Sarah would make sure he stayed dead to her. She would take the money, take her friend, and they would never look back.