Chapter 115: Lost Memory

Chapter 115: Lost Memory
Hank and his men wrapped up the meeting quickly. “That will be it for now. We’ll continue this some other time. My daughter and I need to talk,” Hank was eagerly ushering the men out of the room. “Alright, old man. Don’t want to take too much of your father-daughter time,” one of them teased.
“Yeah, she’s all grown up. You should introduce us properly next time,” another man echoed. “Shh, she’s sleeping,” another man whispered, “let’s just get out of here.”
The men piled out of the room and Hank closed the door behind them, finally leaving the room in silence. “They can be quite a handful,” he said as he walked to the window, “but they have good hearts.”
“I can see that you are all quite close,” Stacy voiced out from the bed. With a swift motion, Hank pulled the curtain close, plunging the room into darkness. “Are you attempting murder or something?” Stacy said without moving from her resting position, her eyes remained closed.
“You get better sleep in dark environments,” Hank replied simply. Stacy sat up on the bed with her arms crossed, “Now you want to sleep?”
“You wanted to sleep,” Hank replied flatly. “Not in your room, old man. What am I, six?” Hank chuckled while pulling the curtains apart, letting the first ray of sunlight in.
Stacy poked at the candle on his table. “Really? A candle? This is a cult, I tell you.”
“Candles are good. They light up the room just enough for you to see. Do you want some? I have two boxes of them,” he offered calmly.
“No, thanks. I’ll definitely burn something with them,” she waved him off, “you’re not going to sleep yet, are you?”
“I don’t sleep,” Hank replied a-matter-of-factly, “what’s it that you wanted to talk to me about?” Stacy straightened at the mention of it. “Yes, there’s something important I need to know. You said I was living with you at your club up till the age of nine, correct?” A nod. “Have I ever had any interaction with that George man when I was young?” Hank was surprised by how the conversation went.
“No, not that I’m aware of. Why?” Stacy gave it a thought. “Then, did something happen in the dungeon before? Like, any dungeons. Here, or back then.”
“There are always things happening in dungeons, sweetheart,” Hank replied with a light-hearted chuckle. “Was there something in particular involving me? I had an uneasy feeling somewhere in the middle of the interrogation in the dungeon.”
Hank’s expression turned serious. He settled on the bed facing his daughter. “What kind of feeling was it?” She gave it a thought. “Hmm, I’m not sure. I had an intuition that something’s wrong. Everything seems fine now, but my intuition is telling me that it’s not the end. It felt as if I knew an important piece of information but I couldn't remember it. I’m leaving everyone in potential danger.”
Hank nodded. “It’s true that it’s not the end of it. As long as Gus is still alive, he will plan for more of these. Your gut feeling might be triggered from the dangerous situation of the fight. Not having your memory leaves you feeling like you do not have control. I guess seeing your man getting hurt exaggerated the feeling of failure and your subconscious leads you to think that not being in control causes this failure.”
“That’s logical,” she nodded, “you are good at this.” She gestured at the air between them. “You linked the mess I’m trying to figure out for hours so easily.”
“It’s just a speculation,” he replied in a calm tone. “So, what do I do?”
Hank shrugged. “I have no solution. If I do, I will be sleeping already.”
“You have a point,” she said, but her mind was still reeling from the whole thing. “I still feel that I’m missing something. Would gaining my memories back help with this feeling?” Hank shook his head. “I don’t know, sweetheart. The young doctor might have a better answer for this. I’m just a retired old man.”
Stacy gave him the side eye. “Well, Nelly is still shell-shocked after the fight. While I’m here, trying to figure out the message my sub-conscious is trying to tell me.”
Suddenly, she jumped out of bed. “I need to figure this out. You need to help me think of a way, old man. How do I get my memories back, or at least, how can I figure out the important message I thought I was missing?”
Hank sighed. “I remember my grandfather said something about hypnosis. I think there’s a way, but I have no information on it. It died with him or with the other members of my family.” Stacy’s eyes lit up and she studied him intently. “What about the relatives in the city?”
“I have no contact with them,” Hank said, “and they are dangerous people. I prefer not reaching out at all.”
Stacy chuckled. “Said the head of a gang who killed thousands.” Hank shook his head. “That’s different. We only ride, fight, and kill. We’re more straight-forward. Their world is an entanglement of many things, corrupted with the cruelty of humans. I’d say it’s still better not to reach out.”
“That's where I was sent to, isn’t it? When I was nine?” Hank tensed visibly. “No. I staged the whole thing. Those men you saw earlier were only pretending to be doing those things. They were supposed to find a safe place for you to settle down in a city far away from here.”
“I don’t think I can believe it. Anyway, try to think harder. You’re still young. It’s too early to lose your memory. There must be a way to recover mine. Something your family mentioned in passing when you were young, or a note your grandfather left, any clue that can let me regain my memory,” she pushed, unwilling to give up.
Hank shook his head. “I saw it once. It’s dangerous. You must be careful during the process or the person might lose their mind.”