My colleague was a bright, cheerful girl named Clara Wynn.
She thoughtfully walked me through each resident's temperament and special needs. I wrote everything down, trying to store it piece by piece in my mind.
Maybe it was the aftereffects of the accident; my memory felt slow, like it lagged behind everything.
"There's a memory recovery clinic here at Westbrook Care Center," Clara said kindly. "Staff get a half-price discount. You should check it out tomorrow."
I finished peeling the apple in my hand and passed it to her. "Okay. Thank you."
Adrian had once hired specialists to treat my condition. But the results were never satisfying.
"Perhaps the patient experienced severe trauma and subconsciously chose to forget as a form of self-protection."
Back then, I couldn't understand ho
