The woman in my memory

THE WOMAN IN MY MEMORY CHAPTER ONE THE GIRL WHO WOKE UP The first thing I heard was a heartbeat. Slow. Steady. Beep. Beep. Beep. I tried to open my eyes, but the light above me was too bright. My head throbbed. My throat felt dry. And somewhere beneath the fog in my mind, there was a voice. A man's voice. “I'm sorry, Liyana.” I froze. The voice came again, quieter this time. “You were never supposed to remember.” My eyes snapped open. White ceiling. White walls. A hospital. I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my body. “Easy!” A nurse rushed toward me. “Don't move.” I stared at her. “Where am I?” “St. Catherine's Hospital.” My breathing became uneven. “What happened?” The nurse smiled. “You were in an accident.” An accident. I closed my eyes. I tried to remember. There had been rain. A road. Headlights. Then— A hand around my wrist. My body hitting the floor. Someone standing above me. And blood. My eyes opened again. “Who attacked me?” The nurse stopped. “Attacked you?” “Yes.” “There was no attack.” I stared at her. “What?” “You were in a car accident, Ms. Mkhize.” My heart skipped. “Ms. Mkhize?” She smiled. “Liyana Mkhize.” I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. “Where's my family?” “Your mother is here. Your fiancé too.” Fiancé. I frowned. “I have a fiancé?” The nurse's smile disappeared. “You don't remember him?” I swallowed. “No.” The door opened. A man walked in. Tall. Dark-haired. Wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The moment he saw me, his face changed. Relief. Fear. Something else I couldn't identify. He walked toward my bed. “Liyana.” I stared at him. He reached for my hand. I pulled it away. He froze. “Who are you?” His face went pale. “It's me.” I waited. He swallowed. “Adrian.” The name meant nothing. Not even a flicker of recognition. “I'm your fiancé.” I looked at the nurse. Then back at him. “I don't know you.” For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Adrian looked down. His jaw tightened. The nurse quietly left the room. I watched him carefully. “You said I'm your fiancé.” “Yes.” “How long have we been together?” “Three years.” Three years. I should have remembered his face. His voice. His hands. Something. Anything. But there was nothing. “Do we love each other?” He looked at me. “Yes.” The answer came too quickly. I studied him. “Do I love you?” His expression cracked. “You did.” Did? Before I could ask what he meant, the door opened again. A woman entered. She was elegant, probably in her late forties. Her hair was perfectly styled. Her eyes were swollen from crying. “Baby.” She rushed toward me. “Mom?” She stopped. Her face collapsed. “Yes.” She touched my cheek. “You're awake.” I looked at her. Something about her felt familiar. But not comforting. Familiar in the way a nightmare could feel familiar. “I don't remember you.” She went completely still. Then she smiled. A tiny, trembling smile. “That's okay.” Her voice shook. “The doctor said memory loss can happen.” I looked between her and Adrian. “Why does everyone keep looking at me like I'm supposed to know something?” Nobody answered. Then my mother leaned down and kissed my forehead. “You just need to rest.” I closed my eyes. But something was wrong. I knew it. I didn't know these people. I didn't know Adrian. I didn't know my mother. And yet... I knew one thing. I had been murdered. The memory returned suddenly. A dark room. My knees hitting the floor. Someone gripping my hair. A man's voice. “You shouldn't have opened the door.” Then another voice. A woman's. “She's awake.” And finally— A face. I gasped. My eyes opened. The woman standing beside my bed was staring at me. My mother. Her expression had changed. For one brief second, she looked terrified. Then it disappeared. “What's wrong?” she asked. I stared at her. “I remembered something.” Her fingers tightened around the blanket. “What?” I looked directly into her eyes. “There was a woman.” Silence. “What woman?” “I don't know.” I lied. Because I suddenly remembered one more thing. The woman had my face. Exactly my face. And she was standing beside my mother. My mother took a step backward. Adrian noticed. “What did you remember, Liyana?” I looked at him. Then at my mother. “I don't know.” Another lie. A nurse entered with medication. My mother immediately stepped aside. As the nurse adjusted my drip, I noticed something written on the inside of my wrist. A small black mark. A number. 17. I stared at it. “What does that mean?” The nurse looked at my wrist. Her face changed. Only for a second. Then she covered it with the blanket. “Probably from the accident.” I pulled my hand away. “No.” The room went quiet. I looked at the number again. “That's not from an accident.” Nobody answered. That night, everyone left. The hospital room became silent. I couldn't sleep. At 2:13 a.m., I heard footsteps in the corridor. Slow. Careful. They stopped outside my door. I held my breath. The handle turned. The door opened slightly. Nobody entered. I waited. Then a small object slid across the floor. A photograph. The door closed. I stared at it. My heart began pounding. I reached down and picked it up. It was old. The edges were worn. There were two little girls standing in front of a house. They looked identical. Same eyes. Same smile. Same face. I turned the photograph over. There was writing on the back. Six words. Six words that made the entire room feel colder. IF YOU FIND THIS, YOU'RE NOT LIYANA. My fingers began to tremble. I looked toward the door. Then back at the photograph. And for the first time since waking up... I remembered something clearly. A name. Not mine. Elena. I whispered it into the darkness. “Elena.” The hospital monitor beside me suddenly began beeping faster. And somewhere outside my room... someone whispered: “She's remembering.”