license when you told me you didnât have a car. I never thought to question where you kept your money. After you moved in with me, I paid all the bills."
He walked toward the bed, holding her gaze. âEvery investigator I worked with suggested that you had help in disappearing, and that it probably wasnât the first time youâd pulled a vanishing act. You had to have had connections to construct an identity for yourself that allowed you to live freely and yet disappear completely when you were ready to go.â He paused. âBut someone somewhere knows who you really are."
âMaybe thatâs the person whoâs trying to kill me,â she said.
âMaybe it is."
âAnd I wonât see him coming, because I donât know who he is."
âThen youâd better get your memory back fast. Iâm going to get some air."
Sarah stretched out on the bed and sank back against the pillows as Jake left the room. She was both relieved and terrified to be alone. She didnât know where the danger would come from next, but she was certain that whoever was after her was not through trying. She had to remember. She simply had to.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she searched desperately for a memory. But there was nothing. She knew there was only one way to get into her brain; she had to try to sleep. Her nightmares might be the only way to find her daughter.
Chapter Six
The questions were so simple. He wanted to know her name, where she came from, what she did, who she was. He was so handsome, so sophisticated, so clearly out of her league that she couldnât help but hesitate. Deep in her heart she wanted to speak the truth, the whole ugly truth, but she was afraid of the results. Things would change. He wouldnât smile at her the way he was smiling now -- not if he knew who she really was. If she didnât give him the right answers, heâd walk away. It had happened before.
What did it matter in the end? She would be who he wanted her to be. Sheâd learned that important lesson years earlier. Give them what they want, and then theyâll want you.
Sarah woke up with a start, not sure how long sheâd been asleep, but the room was filled with dark, late afternoon shadows. Blinking rapidly, she took in the now-familiar surroundings of her hospital room. The clock read five thirty. Sheâd been asleep for about an hour. Sheâd been dreaming again -- about a man. Heâd been wearing a tuxedo. But his face remained vague, in the shadows of her mind. Was it Jake sheâd dreamed about? Was it one of their early dates, when sheâd first told him the lies about herself?
For some reason she didnât think so. Was it possible there was another man in her past? Someone else she had lied to? She frowned at that disturbing thought. What kind of a woman lied again and again? The only answer was that she had something to hide. And now she wasnât just hiding the past from others; she was also hiding it from herself.
Sitting up, she put a tentative hand to her head. The swelling had gone down, and her temple was much less painful. The dizziness also seemed to have eased. As she stretched her stiff limbs, she wondered where Jake was and, more important, what he was doing.
The door to her room opened, and she turned her head, expecting to see Jake, but it was another man. He was taller than Jake and thinner, dressed in a navy blue suit with a light blue tie that hung loose about his neck. His hair was brown but spiked and streaked with blond highlights, giving him a bit of a surfer look that didnât quite match his conservative attire. His eyes were a light brown, flecked with the same gold as his hair.
As he approached the bed, she tensed. Her first thought was that he was one of the doctors who had been called in to consult on her case, but there was something about the look in his eyes that bothered her. Her heart sped up.
âWho are you?â she
He walked toward the bed, holding her gaze. âEvery investigator I worked with suggested that you had help in disappearing, and that it probably wasnât the first time youâd pulled a vanishing act. You had to have had connections to construct an identity for yourself that allowed you to live freely and yet disappear completely when you were ready to go.â He paused. âBut someone somewhere knows who you really are."
âMaybe thatâs the person whoâs trying to kill me,â she said.
âMaybe it is."
âAnd I wonât see him coming, because I donât know who he is."
âThen youâd better get your memory back fast. Iâm going to get some air."
Sarah stretched out on the bed and sank back against the pillows as Jake left the room. She was both relieved and terrified to be alone. She didnât know where the danger would come from next, but she was certain that whoever was after her was not through trying. She had to remember. She simply had to.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she searched desperately for a memory. But there was nothing. She knew there was only one way to get into her brain; she had to try to sleep. Her nightmares might be the only way to find her daughter.
Chapter Six
The questions were so simple. He wanted to know her name, where she came from, what she did, who she was. He was so handsome, so sophisticated, so clearly out of her league that she couldnât help but hesitate. Deep in her heart she wanted to speak the truth, the whole ugly truth, but she was afraid of the results. Things would change. He wouldnât smile at her the way he was smiling now -- not if he knew who she really was. If she didnât give him the right answers, heâd walk away. It had happened before.
What did it matter in the end? She would be who he wanted her to be. Sheâd learned that important lesson years earlier. Give them what they want, and then theyâll want you.
Sarah woke up with a start, not sure how long sheâd been asleep, but the room was filled with dark, late afternoon shadows. Blinking rapidly, she took in the now-familiar surroundings of her hospital room. The clock read five thirty. Sheâd been asleep for about an hour. Sheâd been dreaming again -- about a man. Heâd been wearing a tuxedo. But his face remained vague, in the shadows of her mind. Was it Jake sheâd dreamed about? Was it one of their early dates, when sheâd first told him the lies about herself?
For some reason she didnât think so. Was it possible there was another man in her past? Someone else she had lied to? She frowned at that disturbing thought. What kind of a woman lied again and again? The only answer was that she had something to hide. And now she wasnât just hiding the past from others; she was also hiding it from herself.
Sitting up, she put a tentative hand to her head. The swelling had gone down, and her temple was much less painful. The dizziness also seemed to have eased. As she stretched her stiff limbs, she wondered where Jake was and, more important, what he was doing.
The door to her room opened, and she turned her head, expecting to see Jake, but it was another man. He was taller than Jake and thinner, dressed in a navy blue suit with a light blue tie that hung loose about his neck. His hair was brown but spiked and streaked with blond highlights, giving him a bit of a surfer look that didnât quite match his conservative attire. His eyes were a light brown, flecked with the same gold as his hair.
As he approached the bed, she tensed. Her first thought was that he was one of the doctors who had been called in to consult on her case, but there was something about the look in his eyes that bothered her. Her heart sped up.
âWho are you?â she
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