7
On Wednesday, I met with the neurologist at
Ethan’s request.
His office felt strangely familiar, yet I’d never
been there before. I was perplexed.
He seemed to sense my confusion, offering
me warm water. “Don’t be nervous,” he said,
his voice smooth and reassuring. “I’m Dr. Kai.
く
I have a background in psychology and am
adept at using environmental influences to
affect a person’s state of mind.”
I looked at him, his smile kind. Despite his
unfamiliar features, he felt familiar.
“Have I met you before?” I asked.
He sat across from me, his fingers steepled.
He smiled easily. “I have an eidetic memory,
Ms. Sarah. We haven’t met.”
His voice was slow, strangely convincing.
My vision blurred, and I only vaguely heard
him say, “Ms. Sarah, I hope you won’t regret
your decision.”
Ethan was waiting for me outside. He handed
me my bag and phone.
“Are you okay?”
I leaned against the wall, managing a weak
smile. I felt like I’d forgotten something, but
couldn’t remember what.
Ethan stayed with me until I recovered. My
<
head still buzzed, but I could walk normally.
We parted at the hospital entrance.
“I feel bad for keeping you here so long. Let
me treat you to dinner,” I said.
Ethan chuckled. “No need. You already have.”
I paused.
“In a corner of your forgotten memories, we
were friends,” he added.
On the way home, I thought about his words,
trying to remember if we had ever met. Lost
in thought, I accidentally sketched him.
Lily spun her chair around, teasing me. “Wow,
drawing a pretty boy from a bottle! What?
Second spring?”
I denied it immediately. “Of course not, he’s
only twenty.”
Lily clicked her tongue, studying my drawing.
“He looks lifeless, like a still life, not a living
person.”
That’s how Ethan felt: a cat submerged in
く
darkness, only his eyes holding sunlight.
He longed for escape,
For luck to come his way.
