I AM YOURS TO PLAY
“What’s going on? Why can’t I remember anything?”
Dr. Vincent sighed, his eyes kind, his voice heavy. “You’re likely suffering from amnesia,” he said, his words measured, his hand on my arm. “The trauma from the gunshot, the blood loss, the surgery—it can disrupt memory. It might return in days, weeks, maybe months or years. We’ll run tests, monitor you, see if anything comes back.”
I nodded, my tears streaming, my heart racing, my pain a constant throb. “Amnesia?” I whispered, my voice cracking, my fear raw. “How did this happen? Who shot me? Why?”
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