neck that rose in alarm. “Yeah. Very funny.”
“This isn’t one bit funny.” She tugged her gown higher over her chest but thrust her chin in the direction of the door. “I told you to get out.”
Gage held out his hands in mock surrender. “You’re upset about being stuck with me? Well, too bad. They called me because you have a concussion and can’t drive. If I leave, how are you going to get home?”
For a long moment she stared at him, as if he were an alien creature she needed to dissect with X-ray vision. “Home?”
“Yes. Home.” He sighed, desperately seeking patience. “To your fancy downtown condo. The sooner I can drop you off, the sooner you’ll be rid of me.” And then his good deed for the day would be finished.
She reached up with one hand and massaged her temple. “I can’t— Let’s try this again.” Dropping her hand, she leveled a look at him full of uncertainty. “Who are you?”
He stared at her in suspicious shock. Was this some sort of weird game? If so, he wasn’t in the mood. He’d already spent his entire evening solving problems at three of his construction sites and had gotten less than four hours of sleep. No way was he doing this.
“Fine. You don’t want me to take you home? Then I’m outta here.” He spun on his heel but Jennifer walked into the room, blocking his escape route.
“Mallory?” The nurse glanced past him but didn’t move from the door. “Dr. Anderson is writing your discharge note as we speak. Would you like to get dressed?”
“No. I want to know what’s going on.” The tone of her voice held a note of desperation. “Who is this guy? My head hurts. You’re telling me to go home, but where is home? Why can’t I remember anything?”
Dumbfounded, Gage swiveled toward her. Mallory’s confused-yet-defiant gaze met his without an ounce of recognition. Doubt assailed him. Could she honestly be telling the truth?
The nurse was taken aback by Mallory’s questions, too. “Since when can’t you remember? You didn’t say anything when Dr. Anderson examined you.”
Mallory massaged her temple again, wincing beneath the pressure of her fingers. “I can’t think straight with this headache.” She frowned, picking at one corner of the blanket covering her. “It wasn’t until this guy mentioned going home that I realized I couldn’t remember.”
Gage sighed and dropped heavily into a chair beside her bed. Thoughts of returning home for sleep anytime soon faded faster than an early-morning mist. What was going on? Was it possible Mallory really couldn’t remember anything?
Jennifer clearly thought so. “I better find Dr. Anderson.”
Unfortunately, the doctor didn’t have any more advice to give them. He examined Mallory again, asking a barrage of questions. She knew which year it was and the president of the United States, but not anything personal about herself.
“What’s your address?”
“I don’t know.” Mallory closed her eyes in frustration. Knuckles white, her fists clenched the sheets. She sucked in a loud breath. “I don’t understand. What is wrong with me? How can I forget my address?”
“Do you remember any members of your family?” the doctor persisted.
“No.” She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “But I could be an only child.”
Gage nearly laughed until he realized she was serious. An only child? Mallory and Alyssa were close, despite their completely different personalities. How could she forget her twin sister?
“Hmm.” The doctor frowned and tabbed through the computer screens, reviewing parts of Mallory’s electronic medical chart. “There aren’t many details regarding your accident. You were found lying on a concrete sidewalk by a neighbor who was coming home after work. Your purse contained some cash and an ID, so we don’t really believe this was a mugging. And certainly nothing to indicate a cause for amnesia.”
“What do you mean nothing to indicate a cause for her amnesia?” Gage straightened—his interest piqued, in spite of himself.
The doctor shrugged. “Retrograde amnesia is often the result of a traumatic event combined with a head injury. Mallory has some short-term memory still intact, which even more strongly indicates a traumatic psychological event. However, without knowing what the source of the potential trauma could be, there really isn’t anything we can do. We’ve already performed a CT scan of her head and didn’t find any bleeding. When her brain can handle her memory, I’m sure it will return.”
Gage rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “So now what? Does she need to stay here? Get more tests?”
“No, that’s not necessary. We’ve ruled out a head bleed. More tests aren’t going to give any input into the source of her amnesia. I’d recommend she be released home, with instructions to follow up with her primary-care doctor in a week. But she really shouldn’t be left alone. At least, not until her memory begins to return.”
“I’m sure her sister will keep her company.” Gage sighed again. Once he managed to find her.
He hoped, prayed, Alyssa hadn’t found someone new. Someone from her church, who went to every single Bible study group meeting no matter what. Someone who may have already replaced him in her heart.
“Good. We’ll finish that discharge paperwork.”
Gage fell silent after the doctor left the room. He was surprised to find he felt sorry for Mallory. In her current, injured state, he found her less irritating. Although the situation frustrated him to no end. Where was Alyssa?
“A sister? I have a sister?”
He lifted his gaze to meet her abruptly hopeful one. His annoyance faded a bit. “Yeah. Your parents are gone, but you do have a sister. Alyssa is your twin and she’s an amazing person.”
Mallory’s gaze turned curious. “Wow. Sounds like you care about her.”
“Yes, I do. Very much,” he answered honestly.
“Alyssa.” She repeated the name, wrinkling her forehead in concentration. “It’s so wrong not to remember a twin sister. But the name seems right. Mallory and Alyssa. We’re close?”
“Yes, you’re close,” Gage admitted, because it was true. Despite their differences, the twins always stood by each other no matter what.
“Where is she?” Mallory looked perplexed. “If we’re close, why isn’t she here?”
“Good question.” He reached for his cell phone and redialed. After several long rings there was no answer. He didn’t bother leaving another message. “We’ll have to stop over there tomorrow. For now, we’ll go back to your place. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“The sofa?” Her blue eyes, so much like Alyssa’s, widened in horror. “I’d rather you slept in your car. What part of this don’t you understand? I don’t know you!”
Her barely restrained annoyance gave more credence to her story than anything else could have.
