“Um …” I blinked. “My memory is fuzzy.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.”
“Do I know you?”
“Do you think you should know me?”
“Yes … I mean, no … I don’t know.” My head started to ache and I leaned wearily against my pillows.
He leaned forward, his pen sticking up between his fingers. “You’re making remarkable physical progress.”
“I don’t feel—” I paused to swallow “—remarkable.”
“It takes time to recover, but I can assure you your prognosis is highly encouraging. You’re going to be just fine.”
I shook my head, despair washing over me. How could I ever be fine again?
“Don’t think of me as your doctor, consider me your friend.” Dr. Hodges leaned forward, his tone intimate like we were best friends. “How are you feeling?”
“My throat … hurts.”
“Then by all means, let me offer you some water.” He reached for the pitcher on my table and poured a cup.
I accepted the cup, soothed by the cool liquid. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome. I’m here to help you.”
“Really?” I bit my lip and blinked back tears. Since I’d woken up, almost everyone had treated me with accusations and hostility. I desperately needed someone who cared enough to listen.
“I’ll do everything in my power to help you through this,” he said kindly. “I know it won’t be easy, but trusting me is your first step to recovery. It’s natural to experience initial resistance, but you’ll quickly discover that I have your best interests at heart. I assure you that anything you say to me will be completely in the strictest of confidence.”
“I’m afraid …” I hesitated. “You won’t believe me.”
“Belief begins with your willingness to trust.” He gave my hand a reassuring pat. “Let me help you. Tell me everything about the real Leah Montgomery.”
“I–I can’t.”
“Refusing to cooperate reinforces negative behavior and hinders recovery.”
I sighed, too tired to pretend. “I’m not … not who you think.”
He showed no surprise, although his expression softened sympathetically as he wrote quickly in his notebook.
“I only look like Leah.”
“How do you usually look?”
“Like Amber.”
“Who is she?”
“Me. I’m Amber, not Leah.”
“You have an alternative personality called Amber?”
“No. I am Amber.”
“A nickname?”
“No. Just me.” My words trailed off in a whisper and I wasn’t sure he heard me as I added, “I’m in the wrong body.”
“I see.” He straightened, his gaze sharpening with interest. Finally, I was saying something fascinating and had his full attention. But did he believe me?
“Rest assured, I am completely on your side and will guide you through this traumatic time.” He leaned forward, writing in his notebook. “Are you experiencing feelings of detachment, as if you’re physically inhabiting an unfamiliar body?”
I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant, but it was close enough, so I nodded. My head throbbed and it hurt to talk. Everything was so complicated. I didn’t know how to say the right things. Dr. Hodges sounded sincere, like he truly understood and wanted to help. With his support, I could sort out this mess and return to my real family. He’d said he was my friend, and I really needed one right now.
“This could be one for the case books,” he murmured with a bright light in his gaze. Not the heavenly kind of bright light; more like the kind of flashing lights that go off when a game-show contestant wins a jackpot.
Instead of being reassured, I had a bad feeling that I’d just made another very wrong turn.
* * *
No one else came to visit, except a different nurse who gave me pills that dissolved the boundaries of reality. I escaped into a sleep so deep that the rest of the day was a blur. If I had bad dreams, I didn’t remember them.
Gradually, voices crept into my consciousness. I was aware of lights and movement and a strong scent of lavender. I resisted waking, not remembering exactly why this was a good idea, just feeling safer in sleep. But cool hands were lifting me …
I fought the hands, instantly tense with fear.
“Leah, honey,” a woman’s soft voice pleaded. “Don’t make this so hard.”
My eyes jerked open. I stared into the stranger face of Leah’s mother.
“Go away,” I told her.
But she didn’t, and neither did the male nurse who stood beside her with a wheelchair. They wanted to take me somewhere unknown. No! I wouldn’t go with them. Leaving would take me further from my family. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to make them understand who I was. But I couldn’t find the words, and crumpled inside. Instead of speaking rationally, I lost it and burst into tears.
“I–I want … my-my mom.”
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Soft hands reached for me, but I pushed them away.
“NO!” My shout slammed painfully against my throat. “You’re not my mother — I don’t even know you!”
“Leah, don’t be like this.”
“No! I’m not Leah. Can’t you see?”
“I can see you’re sick, but I’ll help you get better.”
“I want to … to go home,” I sobbed.
“That’s where I’m going to take you, if you’ll just get into the wheelchair—”
“No, no, NO! I want my real mom!”
I wrenched away from her, intense pain hammering my head. I could endure the pain, but not being taken somewhere my parents couldn’t find me. This was all so wrong! I just wanted to climb into my own bed in my own bedroom and feel Mom’s comforting arms around me. I’d been holding onto hope that my family would rescue me, or that I’d wake up suddenly to find myself in my own body.
If I left, I might never find my way back home.
“Leah, be reasonable,” the woman begged. “You know very well I’m your mother. You must stop talking like this … it’s not safe. You’re only making things worse.”
“It can’t get worse.”
“Oh yes it can — horribly.” She pursed her lips and lowered her voice. “Be a good girl and get into the wheelchair. Please, Leah.”
“Don’t call me that! This is all a big mess and I can prove who I really am if you just get me a phone. I’m not your daughter.”
The nurse narrowed his gaze at me, moving around a small table to stand beside the mother. He never took his eyes off me as he whispered to her, “Mrs. Montgomery, would you like me to call Dr. Hodges?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she told him, lifting her shoulders and chin and speaking with refined authority. “I can handle my own daughter. We’ll just need a private moment together, if you don’t mind.”
“Is that wise?” The nurse shot me a suspicious glance, as if I might grow fangs.
Mrs. Montgomery waved her hand, diamonds sparkling off the overhead lights, and insisted that the nurse
