“Hello?”

My vision swam, dim fluorescent lights swinging in and out of focus as I tried to blink the haze from my eyes. Mechanical beeps drilled into my brain, and I wanted to turn it off, but I had no idea where it came from.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

No response. I swallowed, and I tried to sit up, but that’s when I realized my left leg was trapped in something. I shifted, wincing as the pain exploded through me from head to toe.

Where the hell was I?

I couldn’t seem to clear the blur from my eyes but tried to focus on something.

“Hello? Anybody? Please, help me?”

I fell back into the bed, overwhelmed by exhaustion. Nobody answered me, why didn’t anybody answer me? Where was I? I blinked again, and this time, I slowly moved my head in order to take in the room without the pain threatening to strangle me.

I’m in a hospital.

That’s where I was, lying in a bed in a sterile white room with an IV machine next to me. A dry-erase board on the wall across from me told me the names of my nurses but not much more.

Why was I in the hospital?

I felt dizzy as I looked down to see my leg in some kind of harness contraption, elevated from the rest of my body. Had I been in an accident? I must have been, obviously.

I looked around the bed and spotted the red button on the handrail, and I pushed it. Seconds later, the sound of rushing feet on linoleum brought in a nurse with shock on her face.

“Hey there, hon. You’re awake!”

She beamed at me, trying to look calm but not doing that good of a job at hiding the surprise on her face.

God, was it that shocking that I was awake. Just how banged up was I?

“Well then,” she smiled as she approached my bed. “Let’s check you out, shall we?” She looked at the machines beside me, checked the blood pressure cuff around my arm, wrote down my vitals, and turned to me with a smile.

“I’m Chandra, your nurse for this shift.” She smiled gently as she held my wrist, checking my pulse before her eyes met mine.

“Can you tell me your name, hon?”

Time sort of froze for a second.

My name.

I blinked at it.

“You don’t know it?” I asked, confused. How could they not know my name? I wanted to be angry. I mean, shit, what sort of hospital wouldn’t even know my damn—

And that’s about when the bottom dropped out, and I froze.

…I don’t know my name

“Hey, hey, easy, honey. Easy!” Chandra caught me as I almost rolled from the bed, gasping for air as everything spun around me. “Stay with me, girl. You’re gonna be okay. This isn’t uncommon.”

“I—where—”

I blinked back tears, my breaths coming in heavy, heaving gasps as I tried to focus on that blank area that I knew for sure shouldn’t be blank inside my head.

“You were found crawling down a main highway at nearly two in the morning a few days ago. The only thing you had with you was your cat crate. He’s fine by the way, the paramedic that came when that lady found you has been taking care of him for you. Until you recovered.” She smiled and sat down in the chair next to me. “Can you tell me what happened to you?”

“I don’t…” I stopped. Cat? I had cat? And what was I doing crawling down a road?

“I was found how long ago?” I croaked out.

“Three days ago. From the condition of your clothes we know you must have crawled for a while. You were scraped up really bad in places, and you had a fractured leg, cracked ribs, and a pretty nasty head wound. We’re pretty sure you were in some kind of car accident. We just don’t know where, how, or when.”

Chandra squeezed my hand tightly, her own eyes wet as she smiled at me.

“Your baby is alright too, hon.”

What.

“I’m sorry, baby? My baby?!” I choked out.

Chandra’s smile turned to confusion.

“You’re—you’re pregnant, honey. A few weeks from what we can tell. It’s in there happy as a clam though, don’t fear.”

I was fucking pregnant? How did that happen? I felt my cheeks burn. Well, yeah, I knew how that happened. But how the hell had it happened to me?

“Wait, you said accident. Was it a car accident? Couldn’t you have just checked my car?”

“We didn’t have any reports of motor vehicle accidents, but there’s more than one hospital in this city, so we might not have been informed about it. You had no ID on you, and we haven’t been able to identify you. We’d hoped your cat would be chipped, and maybe we could get info from that, but unfortunately, we didn’t find one.”

I stared up at the ceiling from my spot in the bed in stunned silence, trying to process it all. I bit my lip as I tried to remember something, anything that would be helpful. I couldn’t remember a damn thing though.

Horror filled me. I didn’t even know my own name. But I was pregnant, so somebody knew me, surely?

I struggled to sit up when panic filled me, and Chandra sprang to my side again. “It’s okay, honey, it’s alright. We’ll figure this out. Just tell me what’s wrong, are you in pain?”

“Yes! No. It’s not that. I have no idea who I am!” I felt as if I was about to hyperventilate. “How can I not know who I am? That only happens in movies!”

“It might just be temporary, honey. You had a pretty bad head injury and you’ve been in a coma. It might be an hour or two. It might be days or longer before you get your memory back. But it does come back a lot of the time we see this. Let me call the doctor, alright?”

I settled back into the bed again and stared up at her. How could I not know who I was? Or that I was pregnant?

“I’ll call him right away, honey. Just relax, alright?” She patted my hand and walked out.

I wasn’t alright, and I wasn’t sure anything was ever going to be alright ever again. I couldn’t remember who the fuck I was, where I was, how old I was, anything. I could remember basic things, like what hospitals were, or how to tell time from the clock on the wall—things like that. But personal information? That was all gone. I suddenly shivered when I realized I literally couldn’t even think of what I looked like.

I couldn’t get out of bed to look in a mirror either. I felt around on my head, and found the injury, covered with a wide strip of gauze on my left temple. Then I found my hair, and pulled it out in front of my face to look at it. Golden blonde, silky looking and long. I gingerly felt my face. I found full lips, high cheekbones, a small nose, and a heart-shaped jawline. Okay, not bad, either.

It hurt to move too much so I stopped my attempts to figure out what I looked like, and stared up at the television, high on the wall. It wasn’t on, and I didn’t want to watch it, it was just where my eyes stopped.

Who was I?

I couldn’t remember anything about who I was. I held my hands up to my face and suddenly my heart felt as if it stopped as my eyes flew to my finger.

I was wearing a wedding band.

I knew what it was, even if I couldn’t remember that I was married. Who was he? Was he a good man? Why hadn’t he found me? What kind of husband lost his wife? His pregnant wife at that!

I was still trying not to hyperventilate when the doctor came in. She asked me a lot of questions, examined me, and declared me as fit as could be expected. She also told me I’d need surgery to remove the traction from my leg once it was healed, but that it wasn’t anything major to do. She called for more tests to inspect my brain and I had to grit my teeth through most of it, but I managed.

Days went by. Days.

I tried to remember who I was, but nothing brought back my memories. Not even when I finally got up the courage to ask the nurse for a mirror to see my own face. I saw a bruised, battered face, too swollen to recognize, even if I could remember who I was. My left eye was nearly swollen shut still, apparently there was a fracture in my cheekbone that had caused some swelling too, and my jaw had a large greenish-yellow bruise that disfigured my face too. The right side wasn’t much better but wasn’t as bad. I could see I had green eyes, at least.

I traced the edge of my unbruised right cheek, the mirror held in my other hand, and wondered who the woman was that stared back. Her eyebrows were groomed, and her skin was clear. She looked young—mid-twenties maybe?

My nails were acrylic, but not overly long. They were a sensible length, so maybe I was an active person. Maybe I had a job where someone would miss me, as it seemed my husband hadn’t. I wondered if I had children, and a fleeting memory came to me. A girl’s laughter. I think it might have been a little girl’s anyway. Maybe it was a boy? Was it my child? Did I have another child somewhere out there in the world?

Did I still have parents? Where were they? Brothers and sisters? Nothing pinged a memory, only the momentary laugh of a small child, but that child could have belonged to anybody I suppose. I even tried to examine my dreams, tried to hold onto them to see if there was anyone I knew in them, if any of them said my name. But they drifted away like smoke before I could even write down what I’d dreamed about.

At least I didn’t have to worry about a place to live for a while. The doctor informed me I’d be in the hospital for at least two weeks, maybe even as long as six. Maybe that would be enough time to find out who I was.

“Time for your exercises, Miss.” A young woman came in, cheerful and clearly one of those active types because she all but bounced in place.

“I’m sorry, exercises?” I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do. I was basically tied to the bed.

“Well, we don’t want your knee to seize up, and we need to adjust the weights on your frame. Let me examine your leg, please? I’m Tracy, your physical therapist by the way.” The young blonde woman pointed to her name tag and matched the smiley sticker just under her name with a real one.

I liked her. I was confused, but I liked her. She examined the laceration from where my leg bone had perforated the skin, explained things I didn’t understand at all, and helped me to move to a sitting position.

“All we want to do is work your knee. A little bit at first, and I’ll help you. In another day or so you’ll be ready to get out of this frame, but we need to leave a brace in place until your break heals properly.”

She was right, I did want to just get out of the bed and be able to walk without the stupid frame. Thankfully by the end of the week, the pain had started to ease a little, and I was on my way to being able to stand, with crutches of course.

I had therapy twice a day and I started to look forward to perky little Tracy’s visits. She made me smile, encouraged me, and made it all just a little bit more bearable.

After a particularly hard day, my evening nurse came in with some papers to sign. I’d been instructed to sign my name as Jane Doe until we knew for sure who I was. I don’t know how legal any of it was, but I did as I was told, for now.

“What are these, Veronica?” I read over the papers but most of it didn’t make any sense to me.

“We want to help you to find out who you are and we’re doing some press releases. You’ll be on the local news this evening and in the morning papers. If you’re alright with it, that is.”

“Oh! That’s a great idea! Where am I by the way?”

“In a hospital just outside of Los Angeles, sweetie. I’m sorry, did nobody tell you?” She looked a little perturbed, but it wasn’t her fault.

“I meant to ask, but then forgot with all of my other worries. LA, huh? Maybe I’m a movie star.”

Veronica chuckled as she collected the papers. “Your humor’s back. That’s always a good sign.”

“My name would be a better one.”

She grinned, squeezing my hand.

“I bet the press release will help, sweetie.” She winked. “Maybe one of your millions of fans will be watching.”

“Let’s hope so.”

She walked out with a grin, the signed papers in her hand. She paused before she left. “I hope this works for you, sweetheart. I don’t like to call you Jane, Miss seems wrong, and well, I’m sure you’re about tired of all of us calling you endearments.”

She gave a short little laugh, and I smiled.

“It’s nice, actually. I hate not knowing who I am, but you’ve all been so nice that it’s not been bad at all. I feel like I’m special.” Now it was my turn to give a short laugh. “That’s sad isn’t it?”

“Not at all, you’ve obviously been through a lot. Just relax and I’ll let you know as soon as we know anything, alright? It’ll be on at six. Keep an eye out for it, if you want.”

I did and turned the television on at the right time. Mine was the first story.

“Good evening, viewers. A very special story starts our news hour at six, one that calls on you, our viewers to lend local authorities and hospital officials a hand.”

The pretty, middle-aged woman on the screen gave the details of the night I was brought in, how I’d been found crawling up a highway before I’d passed out and fallen into a coma.

The woman treated my story with gentle poise and gave a sympathetic look when my photo was added to the screen.

“We hope someone out there knows who this young woman is. She must have a home and people that love her out there somewhere, so please, if you have any information, call the number on the screen, right now.”

I waited, anticipation filling me as the minutes passed and the newscasters went on to another story. I didn’t hear the phone ring at the nurse’s station, and nobody came to rush into my room. Maybe they wanted to verify the information first? Maybe that’s why the newscast hadn’t been answered immediately?

…Or maybe, the darkest worry I’d been harboring about the lack of anyone coming to see me had been right. Maybe I’d been alone before the crash. And the wedding ring? Who knew.

I jumped when the phone rang at last, but nobody came back to my room, so I settled back into the bed. I sighed heavily, which didn’t make my healing ribs feel any better. Maybe it had all been pointless?

An hour later, I was closing my eyes to try and get some rest, when I heard the sound of squeaky shoes and the tread of heavier footsteps alongside. I looked at the door, hoped that someone would fill the frame instead of walking right on by. My hand clutched at my stomach, over the place where I thought the baby would be, and I waited with anxiety to see if someone that knew who I was and had come to claim me and my baby at last.