God help her, she prayed. She was terrified to think what might happen to her and her baby. Did she have loved ones waiting for her, wondering why she hadn’t arrived home? Or maybe she had no home and she’d been running from something or someone!
In spite of the slivers of cold fear racing down her spine, sweat popped out on her forehead and upper lip. A wave of dizziness prompted her to grip the edge of the sink even tighter.
She was clutching the cold porcelain, wondering how she was going to make it back to the bed without falling, when she heard a soft gasp behind her.
“Young lady! What are you doing out of bed?”
From the corner of her eye, she could see a nurse hurrying toward her. The fact that help had suddenly arrived caused her to sigh with relief.
“I—I wanted to look in the mirror,” she attempted to explain to the nurse. “To see what I looked like.”
The nurse wrapped a supportive arm across her back and gently guided her away from the sink. “Now isn’t the time to be concerned about your appearance! You’re concussed. You’re not to get out of bed without a nurse’s assistance!”
“You don’t understand,” she tried to explain. “I didn’t know what I looked like! I don’t even know my name!”
“Don’t get excited,” she ordered. “It will only make everything worse for you and your baby.”
After she’d helped her safely back into bed, the nurse spread a thin sheet and blanket back over her and pulled up the bed railing. From a pocket at the foot of the bed, she collected a clipboard and scanned the information on the top two sheets of paper.
“Hmm. I see. I was told you had a concussion, but I see here that you’ve also been diagnosed with amnesia.” She looked up, her smile empathetic. “When you said you wanted to see what you looked like, you really meant it.”
As the nurse walked up to the head of the bed, she noticed the woman appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Thick auburn hair was twisted into a messy bun atop her head, while bright blue eyes peered compassionately back at her.
“Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Until I looked in the mirror, I didn’t even know what color my hair was. But oddly enough, I think I remember my age. I believe I’m twenty-nine. I don’t know why.” She looked anxiously to the pretty nurse. The name Marcella was written on the name tag pinned to her breast. “Do you think that age is correct?”
The nurse’s smile deepened. “Hard to tell. I’d estimate you a bit younger. But I wouldn’t worry about any of that. You’ll be remembering soon. I’ve seen these sorts of injuries before. Most of them fix themselves fairly quickly. In the meantime, what are you going to call yourself?”
“Oh. I’d not thought about that. I guess I’m what you’d call a Jane Doe.” Feeling even more forlorn, she passed a protective hand over her belly. The baby continued to move with frequent vigor, so she had that much to be thankful for. “But I don’t much like the idea of being tagged with that moniker.”
“I wouldn’t like it either. So let’s call you something else. Like Alice,” the nurse suggested.
“Alice? Why that name?”
Chuckling, she dropped the clipboard back into its holder at the foot of the bed. “Well, I have an idea that right about now you’re feeling like you’re in wonderland. Do you recall the story Alice in Wonderland?”
In spite of her anxious situation, she managed to chuckle along with the nurse. “Guess there are some things in my brain that haven’t left. I do remember the childhood story,” she said, then smiled. “Okay, Alice it will be.”
With an encouraging pat on her shoulder, the nurse reached for the blood pressure cuff hanging behind the head of the bed. “All right, Alice, let’s take your vitals and then I’ll let you get some rest. But promise me one thing. Do not get out of bed unless you press your call button and ask for help. We don’t want anything to happen to you or your baby.”
“I may not know who I am or where I came from, but I know I want my baby very much. I promise not to get out of bed again unless someone is here to help me.”
“Good girl. Now you’re making sense.”
While Marcella took her vitals, Alice managed to keep her emotions together, but once the woman left the quiet room, tears began to stream from the corners of her eyes.
Naturally, the nurse was concerned about her and her baby’s welfare. It was her job to see that her patient recovered. But why weren’t any of her family or loved ones walking through the door? Was she that far from home? Had she been lost?
Suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion, she closed her eyes and tried to remember even the smallest glimmer from her past. But her memories were like a blackboard that had been swiped with a felt eraser. Faint white marks were still evident, but none of them were clear enough to make sense.
The only distinct image she possessed was that of Detective Vincent Parcell. Even in her clouded confusion, she’d noticed his thick brown hair and strong, tanned features. His warm brown eyes had studied her in a way that had made her want to pull the sheet all the way up beneath her chin. He’d not said much, but when he had spoken to her, his voice had been a low, rich baritone that had rumbled through her like a familiar melody.
The detective with him had been an attractive man, and nice to boot. But meeting him hadn’t affected her in the same way as Vincent Parcell. Somehow, someway she’d felt certain their paths had crossed before tonight.
But that was a ridiculous notion, she thought. He was merely a man who was trying to help her get out of this strange wonderland she’d fallen into. And no matter how he’d looked or sounded, she was going to have to trust him to lead her back to the real world.
Early the next morning, Vince left Evan at the office diligently searching through a nationwide database for any type of link to Geena, while he headed to the hospital to attempt to have a word with her doctor.
Luckily, Vince spotted the middle-aged man striding toward the elevator doors located a few feet away from Geena’s room.
“Dr. Merrick,” he called to him. “Can you spare a minute?”
The red-bearded physician paused, and once Vince reached his side, he flashed his badge to identify himself. “Vince Parcell. Remember? You looked in on me a couple of times for Dr. Whitehorse. I had gunshot wounds.”
Recognition flashed in the doctor’s eyes, and he quickly thrust out his hand. “Yes, I remember now. Good to see you looking so well, Detective Parcell. Is there something I can help you with? I hope you’re not having issues with your old injuries.”
As a group of people approached the elevator door, the doctor stepped aside to clear the path and Vince followed him.
“Thanks, Doctor. I’m fine. I’m here regarding a patient of yours. She was involved in a car accident last evening. Blond. Expecting a baby.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve already looked in on her
