She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The excitement in his voice made her heart skip a beat; but when his tone changed, she held her breath and tucked her bottom lip beneath her teeth. “…but I’m not sure where to find her again. I don’t know where she’s staying. I’m not even one-hundred percent sure it’s her, but you should have seen her, Mom. She wasn’t the same, her hair was totally different, and her face had cuts and was swollen, but I really believe it was her. I really think we found her.”

She remembered the first time she heard those words; she had been married to Ethan for two years and was working the late shift as the new girl at St. Joseph Hospital in Eureka. It was a slow February night and the only thing she had left to do was to finish paperwork on the latest patient.

The hallways were quiet except for the conversation between she and the other night nurse, Nicole. They were talking about plans for the vacation that wouldn’t come until next Christmas when a young girl stumbled in with two EMTs by her side. She was a tiny thing, but with a protruding belly. Her dirty blonde hair was unkempt and long. She was wearing a gray long-sleeved dress and had no shoes. She was crying and trying to speak. Nicole rushed to get a wheelchair while Maya went to her.

“We found her walking around outside. Someone just threw her out of a car. We were just coming back from getting some coffee. She hasn’t said anything important yet,” the EMT on her right informed me.

“Thanks. We’ll take it from here. What’s you name, sweetie?” she asked, grabbing the girl’s hand. She couldn’t be more than seventeen. Nicole came with the wheelchair and the girl sat down. The EMTs waited around to see the ending. They wheeled her over to the nearest empty bed and helped her transfer to the bed.

“Jennifer,” she choked out. Nicole left to call the doctor who was on duty that night.

“Okay. Jennifer, how old are you?”

“Eighteen,” she wailed.

“How far along are you?”

“It wasn’t my fault this time. It wasn’t my fault.” She was sobbing.

“It’s going to be okay, Jennifer, but I need you to answer some more questions. The doctor will be here soon.” Nicole had returned, brandishing a needle and saline.

“Jennifer, Nicole is going to give you an IV to get you some fluids and medication to help you with the pain. You’re going to feel a little prick.” She continued to cry, clutching her belly with her left had.

The doctor came in quickly with gloves stretched up to his elbows. He was the only one who spoke with enthusiasm that night, “Somebody is going to become a mom. Let’s get this baby out, shall we?”

Nicole and Maya held back Jennifer’s legs as the doctor instructed her over her screams. After an hour, a healthy six pound four ounce baby girl was cleaned and bundled up. Nicole asked, “What are you going to name her?”

“I can’t keep her, I can’t. It wasn’t my fault this time.”

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Nobody’s blaming you. Do you mean you’re putting her up for adoption?” I asked. She nodded her head as she squeezed out tears. Nicole went and got the adoption papers hesitantly. She whispered to Maya, “Who should we call about putting this baby into adoption?”

She looked back to the sleeping newborn. “I’ll adopt her.”

The next morning after the papers were signed, Jennifer was gone but the baby was sleeping in Maya’s arms. Her little Cori Rowan.

The first thing I noticed coming out of the darkness was the stench of ammonia. I tried to remember where I was and what I was doing there and how I got there. I convinced myself that what I thought just happened was a nightmare and nothing more. I moved to stretch my body when I felt something tied around my wrists. I couldn’t move my arms because my wrists were chained to the bed. As I became more aware of my surroundings, I realized that I didn’t recognize the bed I was lying on. It was uncomfortable: hard and stiff. When I became awake enough to open my eyes, there was very little light to help me see. A door was cracked open with white light spilling out. A shadow moved across and blocked the light. The shadow opened the door to let more of the white light loose. The shadow approached the bed.

“What did you do to me? Why are you doing this?” I whispered to the shadow, but it did not answer. It only moved closer to the bed. I tried to move my body as far away as I could, but my mobility was limited. The shadow’s hand stroked my hair and then lingered on my face.

“I just want to go home, please,” I continued to whisper although I wasn’t sure why.

“I love you,” the gravelly voice replied.

“But I don’t want you to love me.” Then the hand left my face and slapped me. My cheek stung and I could feel it turning red. Then the shadow realized the harm it had caused me in its moment of rage. Its mouth kissed the stinging tenderly.

“Get away from me!” I screamed. The shadow moved back.

“Be quiet, my love. This is for your own good,” the shadow said calmly.

“Why? Why me? I don’t want this! Let me go!” Something heavy hit my head and I blacked out.

Frantic voices were talking all around me.

“Give her more sedatives.”

“She’s already been out for hours!”

“We need to talk to her.”

“But we can’t if she keeps trying to fight us.”

“Brooke, you’re okay. Nothing bad will happen to you. You’re safe here, Brooke.” I recognize the calm voice, a savior from the chaos. I open my eyes and the darkness disappeared and the pink sky peaked through a barred window to my left. Dr. Elizabeth was standing above me at my right. Two nurses stood behind her. I thought I recognized one of them, but my head was spinning. My wrists were fixed in leather bracelets tied to the sides of the hospital bed. A monitor near my head beeped and an IV ran from my right hand to a stand near the monitor.

“Your father and I thought you needed to rest, Brooke. That’s all. You can go back home when you’re ready.” She stroked my tangled and damp hair away from my forehead.

“Did he tell you that I’m not really his daughter?” I finally found the words to speak. I remembered the fight we had before I was dragged off like a crazy criminal. She looked back to the nurses and whispered something. They exited the room and closed the door loudly.

“He told me that a young man named Sawyer has been trying to convince you that you are somebody else.”

“The real Brooke is here. I’m not her.”

“Then tell me who you think you are. Where is the real Brooke?”

“I, I don’t know. She went with Sawyer. But I’m not Brooke.”

“You are Brooke Conall. You were born on March twenty-fourth, nineteen-ninety. Your father is Raymond Conall. Your mother left years ago. You had a terrible accident a month ago and now you have amnesia, but a boy you met only yesterday has told you different. You are now questioning your family, pictures, and doctors because of a boy who is wrong. You are surrounded by people who love and care for you, but you trust a boy that you don’t even know, who doesn’t have your best interest at heart. You have put yourself in dangerous and stressful positions. To me it sounds like you don’t want to be Brooke because you are frustrated with not being able to be yourself again.”

“What was my friend’s name?”

“I’m sorry?” She was caught off guard and looked at me with her eyebrows causes wrinkles on her forehead.

“The one who killed herself? The one whose funeral I went to before my accident.”

“Emily.” Her face smoothed over. “Any other questions?”

“I remembered something.”

“What did you remember, Brooke?”

“I remembered that I was in a hotel room and a man was hurting me. When did this happen?”

“Probably when you had your vacation in Yosemite and the group of men raped you.”

“I thought you said I was raped in the woods, away from people and buildings.”

“All I know is what your father told me and he doesn’t know all of the details. It was a horrible thing that had happened. He didn’t want to pressure you into reliving it.”

“Looks like I am anyway.”

She sighed. “Do you feel well enough to talk to him for a bit? He has been so worried about you.”

“I never want to see him again! He’s not my dad! Why aren’t you listening to me?” I screamed.

“I am listening to you, Brooke. You need to calm down. I won’t let him see you right now, okay? I’m going to have a nurse come in and give you something to help you relax. Here’s the call button if you need anything and the remote for the TV. I’ll come back in the morning to check up on you.” Her voice never rose; it was too calm. She didn’t believe me. I started to cry with frustration. Nobody was ever going to believe me except for Sawyer and he didn’t know where I was. Dr. Elizabeth left quietly. Shortly after, one of the nurses in the room from before came in. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a braid. She was brandishing a syringe between her long, plastic-gloved fingers. I looked at her pleadingly and saw her ID badge. Her name read LIESE, Rebecca and her picture was familiar. Her hair was down and her smile was the same apathetic smile with a hint of empathy as I saw the previous night. It was Rebecca, Sawyer’s sister.

“Rebecca, it’s me.”

“I know. We’re working to get you out of here, but you need to wait. You’ll be safe.” She injected the fluid into the IV. “Rest, you’ll need it.” My body started to go numb. I didn’t know what she meant, but I stopped crying. I had hope now, however blind it was. I allowed myself to relax, but not completely. I didn’t want to be unconscious again. I turned on the TV, but kept the volume down low. I had limited movement with my hands, but I managed to press the buttons on the remote to find something remotely interesting. I fell asleep midway through a movie on the Lifetime channel, something about a mother and her daughter. My sleep was uneventful, dreamless. As soon as I woke up when the light was spilling in from the barred window, I had my mind set on not falling asleep again. I didn’t know when Rebecca would be back or what we would do when she did come. After a nurse came in and found that I was conscious again, she went to fetch Dr. Stav.

Dr. Stav came in no more than twenty minutes later. I had kept myself busy counting the dots on each panel of the ceiling, but quickly grew frustrated. So then I tried to see what mindless things were on the TV. I settled for an old game show, but I couldn’t concentrate on it. The excited host sounded sarcastic and the applause was obnoxiously overwhelming. She came over and turned it off.

“Brooke, are you ready to talk to your father?”

“I told you, he’s not my father,” I said calmly while trying to give her a mean look.

“Then who is?” she asked coolly. The way she said it reminded me of the game show host.

“I told you I don’t know. I want a DNA test so I can prove to all of you that I’m not his daughter.”

“That wouldn’t exactly work out, Brooke.”

“Why not? And stop calling me Brooke. I’m not Brooke.”

“Okay. Well, whatever-name-you-wish-to-be-called-by, you were adopted, so your DNA wouldn’t match his.” I could tell she was mocking me. It made me so made. And to think that I actually trusted her, confided my deepest wishes with her.

“And I suppose he told you that as well.” All I wanted was for Rebecca to come back and get me out of here.

“I’m going to bring Mr. Conall and Linda in so we can talk and get some questions answered, okay?” She turned to leave the room, not even waiting for my answer. I resumed staring at the ceiling. I never wanted to see him again and now she was bringing him in to make my life even worse. I clenched my teeth to keep myself from screaming. I didn’t need any more excuses to make them think I was crazy.

She returned with Linda following close behind her. He came in a few seconds later, closing the door quietly. Linda was dressed casually in black skinny jeans, a tee-shirt with Marilyn Monroe’s face printed on it, a rainbow scarf thrown loosely around her neck, and a light black coat. Her hair was in a loose braid and it made her seem younger, closer to my age, even though she was only twenty-three. He was wearing a suit, as always. He looked well put together and had just enough hint of concern etched into his face. They all pulled up chairs to sit near my bed. Dr. Stav warned him to situate himself as far away from me as possible, but close enough to talk at a calm tone.

“Now, Linda, I wanted to go over the time period in which Mr. Conall was gone and up until he returned, that being the morning of March twenty-fourth until the morning of March twenty-fifth. What did you and Brooke do after our appointment?”

Linda looked nervous and kept moving her eyes between him and her. She was uncomfortable sitting there and ratting me out. She gave me the impression that she was trying hard to appear to be on my side, but she was trying too hard. I didn’t believe her for one second, I didn’t know what to believe anymore. She kept shifting her legs to get comfortable in the hospital chair. “Well, I picked her up and I went to give her the birthday present I made her, a scrapbook, that was in my car. We went shopping and to the salon and out to lunch. We got back to the apartment just in time for the six o’clock news. After she went to the bathroom, she came out and told me that while she was waiting for me after her appointment that morning, she had met a boy named Sawyer. She said that he had invited her to meet him and his friends at Piet 39. I told her no since I didn’t know him and Ray wasn’t in town and she wouldn’t be supervised.”