The middle-aged woman who bears a striking resemblance to my mother was sleeping soundly on the bed beside mine. The doctor had just informed me that she was okay and simply needed to rest. After I had admitted that I couldn't recall anything from my past, the atmosphere in the room shifted dramatically; it grew heavy, and an uncomfortable silence enveloped us all. The doctor then excused himself, saying he needed to review my previous test scans, particularly focusing on my brain, in the hopes of uncovering any overlooked details regarding my amnesia.
"Are you okay, Zion? Did you really forget everything?" A concerned voice pulled me back to reality. It belonged to a girl who was holding my hand, her grip tight, and her expression filled with worry.
"I'm okay, mmm—" I trailed off, tryin
