BACK AT THE ALTAR

The Private Investigator

As they stepped out of the hospital, the automatic glass doors slid shut behind them with a soft hiss. The afternoon sun greeted them immediately, warm against their skin after the cold, sterile air inside. Nurses and visitors moved in and out of the building, while the distant sound of traffic drifted from the busy road nearby.

Sophie released a slow breath and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Well, that was a dead end,” she said, her disappointment clear. Then she lifted a finger. “Except for her name, of course.”

John nodded as they started down the walkway. His jaw tightened slightly.

“Yeah, at least we know her name now. Emily. Let’s see if we can find anything about her online.”

Sophie immediately pulled out her phone. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she searched. The glow from the device reflected faintly in her eyes.

“I’ll try to find her on social media.”

John walked beside her, his gaze fixed ahead. The doctor’s words replayed in his mind, along with the uneasy feeling he’d had throughout the conversation.

“I’m not sure I trust that doctor,” he admitted. “He seemed like he was hiding something.”

Sophie looked up from her phone for a moment, her brows drawing together.

“Maybe he’s just following rules.”

John shrugged, though he didn’t look convinced.

“Maybe. But I think there’s more to this story. If he could give us her file, we’d probably have answers already.”

Sophie nodded thoughtfully.

“I agree. Let’s keep looking and see what we can find out.”

For several minutes, the only sounds between them were the tapping of Sophie’s fingers against her screen and the steady rhythm of their footsteps on the pavement.

Then Sophie’s phone beeped.

She stopped walking for a second and frowned at the screen.

“There’s a few Emily profiles online, but none of them seem to be her.”

John sighed heavily. That tiny spark of hope faded almost as quickly as it had appeared.

“Okay,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s think this through. What do we know about Emily?”

Sophie raised her hand and began counting on her fingers.

“We know her name is Emily. She has amnesia. And she’s supposedly got cancer.”

The words sounded strange even as she said them aloud.

John fell silent, thinking carefully. The pieces didn’t fit together neatly. In fact, the more they learned about Emily, the more confusing everything became.

“And we don’t know anything about her past or her family,” he said at last.

A heavy silence settled between them.

People brushed past on the crowded sidewalk, cars sped along the road, and somewhere nearby a vendor called out to customers. Yet despite all the noise around them, Sophie and John felt trapped inside the same troubling thought.

Who was Emily really? And why did it seem like someone was trying so hard to keep her past hidden?

Sophie said, "Right. Let's keep searching and see if we can find out more."

John turned to Sophie. "You know, I think it's time we visited Emily again. Maybe she'll remember something."

Sophie nodded. "Let's go."

~They arrived at the house and went straight to Emily's room. Sophie and John stood over her, their faces serious.

" look here.” Sophie said firmly. “It’s time you started remembering your past.”

Emily looked up at them, confusion etched across her face. Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head slowly.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

John leaned forward in his chair, his gaze fixed on her.

“We spoke to the doctor,” he said. “He told us your name is Emily. Now, we want to know more about your past.”

Emily’s eyes widened.

“My… past?” she whispered.

The word felt strange on her tongue.

John nodded. “Yes. Your family, your friends, where you came from. There has to be something you remember.”

Emily stared at them blankly. She searched her mind, desperately reaching for something—anything—but found only darkness.

A dull ache began to form behind her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t remember anything.”

“Try harder,” Sophie urged.

“There must be something.”

The ache in Emily’s head grew sharper. Her breathing quickened as panic crept into her chest.

“Please…” she murmured.

Fragments of images flashed through her mind—blurred faces, distant voices, a road disappearing into darkness. They vanished before she could make sense of them.

Emily grabbed her head with both hands and backed away slowly.

“Stop! Please stop!” she screamed, her voice shaking.

Tears welled in her eyes as the pain intensified. Her heart pounded wildly against her ribs, and the room seemed to tilt around her.

“I can’t remember! I can’t!” she cried.

Emily's back hit the wall, and she slid down, her eyes wild with fear. "I don't know! I don't know!" she screamed, covering her ears, acting like one that is mad.

The room fell silent as John and Sophie realized their approach wasn't working. Emily's fragile state was deteriorating under their pressure.

John and Sophie's faces twisted in frustration, but they finally turned and stormed out of the room, leaving Emily on the floor, tears streaming down her face. The door slammed shut behind them, and Emily was left alone, her sobs echoing through the silence.

~ They went to John’s room

John and Sophie paced around the room, their minds racing with thoughts. Sophie stopped in front of a window, gazing out at the sky, while John leaned against a bookshelf, deep in thought.

***

They were both looking for another way to make Emily remember.

Suddenly, Sophie's eyes lit up. "I've got it!" she exclaimed, turning to John.

John looked up. "What is it?" he asked, moving away from the bookshelf.

Sophie hm... "We need to get a private investigator she said suddenly.

John nodded. “Yes, that’s a great idea.” Then he frowned. “But where are we going to find one?”

Sophie was silent for a moment, deep in thought. Then a small smile appeared on her face.

“I know someone,” she said.

Sophie pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts. "Okay, I've got the private investigator's number," she said, her eyes locked on the screen.

John nodded, “Let's call him."

Sophie dialed the number and put the phone on speaker. As they waited for the investigator to answer, Sophie leaned in close to John.

When the investigator answered, Sophie briefed him on the case, “saying, her name is Emily we found her at health care hospital, according to the doctor, they brought her to the hospital two years ago and she has been in a coma ever since…” we need you to find a general information about her.” She said, trying to sound casual.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do,” the investigator said from the other end of the line, his voice calm and professional, carrying the quiet confidence of someone used to solving difficult cases. Before John could say anything else, the call ended.

“What did he say,can he do the job?” John asked.

Sophie nodded. "He said he’ll look into it. He needs some time to gather information."

“Okay.” He responded. His mind racing with possibilities. "Let's hope he finds something.”

~The next morning

John's grandfather, Mr. Smith, knocked on John's bedroom door. "John, wake up! You're going to be late for the office," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

John groggily opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Grandfather, I’ll go when I want to go.” He said, still laying up in bed.

Mr. Smith expression turned serious. "What's going on, John?”

John sighed, throwing off the covers. "I’ll go, Grandfather.”

Mr. Smith eyes narrowed. "What's more important than the family business? You're the future of this company, John."

John stood up, stretching his arms. "I’ve heard you. Grandfather, don’t you think the employees will talk, that how can the heir be a simple team leader.

Mr. Smith’s face turned more serious. “We’re not talking about this again. Get ready and leave for work. And don't forget your responsibilities. I’m counting on you."

John groaned.

As Mr. Smith left the room, John stood up and got ready for the office.