Falling for Mr.Detective

Drrt …. “It’s already on silent, but still disturbing,” Aira mumbled while rummaging through her bag on the passenger seat to find her phone. “Where are you?” asked a man on the phone. “I’m on the way.” “Tell the taxi driver to hurry up. Master is waiting.” “I’m driving myself. I’ll be there soon. I’ll hanging up the phone calls now.” Aira ended the call from her editor, who she called “The Killer.” “Oh no. Not now, please!” Aira panicked upon seeing a group of police officers up ahead conducting vehicle inspections. She recalled that, because of “The Killer” suddenly demanding her to come to the office, she had forgotten to bring her her ID card and driver’s license. “Good afternoon, Miss. I’m conducting a vehicle check. May I see your driver’s license?” asked one of the traffic police who stopped her car. “What’s the inspection for, Sir?” Aira asked curiously. “We’re searching for a fugitive based on a report. Don’t worry, we’ll catch him soon. Now, let me see your ID and driver’s license, Miss.” “I'm so Sorry, Sir, but I forgot to bring them. I left my wallet behind.” Without giving Aira much choice, the officer asked her to park and impounded her car. Frustrated, Aira grabbed her phone to call Jason—her killer editor—to explain the situation. “Are you here yet?” Jason asked impatiently. “Jason … I’m in trouble,” Aira began explaining, trying to tell him she’d have to deal with her car issue first. “Handle it yourself and get here quickly!” Jason replied dismissively. Aira ended the call, thinking about alternative transportation. She grabbed her bag and crossed the street, muttering to herself, “What other bad luck will hit me today?” She ensured the pedestrian light was green before crossing. Crash! Suddenly, everything went black. A violent impact sent her small frame flying to the side of the road. She had been hit by a speeding car. *** Aira slowly opened her eyes, trying to move her stiff body. She wiggled her fingers, which felt incredibly rigid. A young woman with shoulder-length hair wearing a t-shirt appeared in her vision. The woman shouted for someone to come over. Aira felt her fingers being squeezed by a man in a doctor’s uniform. Now, the doctor shone a small flashlight into her eyes. “How many these fingers?” the doctor asked, showing a fingers gesture. “Three,” Aira replied confidently. “She’s awake. However …,” the doctor began explaining Aira’s condition to the woman, but their conversation was out of Aira’s earshot. The young woman returned to the room and approached Aira, followed by a nurse replacing the IV fluid connected to her hand. “Do you remember me?” the young woman asked. “I'm sorry, but I don’t,” Aira replied weakly. “Doctor, is Aira experiencing amnesia?” the woman asked. The doctor proceeded to ask Aira questions about her identity, her mother’s name, the date, and other basic details. “It seems Aira sustained head trauma, causing memory loss. I’ll need to conduct more tests to confirm,” the doctor explained before leaving the room. “Oh no, Aira. I didn’t expect this to happen to you. Even though it sounds strange, let me introduce myself. I’m Sindy, your college friend. I’ll contact your parents and have them come over,” Sindy said, picking up her phone to call Aira’s parents. Aira turned slightly to reach for a glass of water on the table next to her bed. Her weak hand accidentally knocked the glass over, breaking it. The sound startled Sindy, who rushed to check on her. “Do you want a glass of water?” Sindy asked with concern. “Yes, Please. I broke the glass,” Aira replied. “It’s Okay,” Sindy said calmly, cleaning up the glass shards. 'I’m so lucky to have a friend like Sindy,' Aira thought to herself. “Sindy, can you tell me what happened to me?” “Okay!” Sindy replied, setting aside the cleaning tools. “You’re Aira Smith. You’re 19, same age as me. You’re studying Literature Major and work part-time as a freelance writer for a publishing house. A few days ago, you had a car accident and were unconscious for three days in this hospital. I’m so thankful you survived.” “I’m a writer?” Aira asked curiously. “Yes, you’re a writer. Your works are even popular online, you know?” “Really?” Aira asked, surprised to learn this about herself. “What kind of books do I write?” “Now I feel like your personal marketing agent. Alright … here’s your book,” Sindy said, handing her a stack of papers. Aira immersed herself in the manuscript Sindy claimed she had written. She concluded it was a sweet romance novel about a woman secretly in love with a man. “Is this based on a true story?” Aira asked. “How did you know? Are you starting to remember?” Sindy asked, surprised by her question. “No. I just felt something warm while reading it. Is it true? Whose story is this?” “It’s yours! So, it is true that a writer never forgets their work—something you once told me. You told me that your romance novel on your own love story,” Sindy replied enthusiastically. “Then, who’s the man I secretly loved in this novel?” Sindy leaned closer with a serious look, narrowing her eyes. “That’s the part I never knew—which always annoyed me. You’re my best friend, but you never told me who it was,” Sindy said, pouting. “Let’s just read the ending,” Aira suggested confidently. “I wanted to cheat like that too, but your manuscript is unfinished. So, I don’t know either because you always said you’d reveal it once it was published.” Sindy explained that writing had been Aira’s dream since childhood. To continue her career, Aira had no choice but to finish her novel. Aira read through page after page of her manuscript, but none of it sparked any memory. She realized that she truly had amnesia. “Hey, Sis!” Sindy snapped her fingers in front of Aira. “What?” Aira asked, startled. “I have an idea that might help you figure out who the mysterious man in your novel is. It may not help you remember everything quickly, but it could at least help you finish your romance manuscript,” Sindy explained. “What’s your idea?” Aira asked. “You know, there’s a law student at our campus, he well known as "the campus detective". Maybe we can ask for his help to find clues about the man you loved,” Sindy said while folding some of Aira’s clothes by the bed. “Someone like that exists on our campus? I thought detectives only appeared in comics.” “Hey, I’m serious!” “Alright. How do we ask for his help?” “Leave it to me,” Sindy said, grabbing her phone and searching her contacts before calling someone. Still feeling pain in parts of her body, Aira could only hope to recover soon and avoid troubling Sindy further.