Chapter 22 Okay
She set everything on the counter, grabbed a glass cup, and poured cereal and milk carefully.
She took the first spoonful.
“Oh wow,” she whispered. “What more could I have asked for.”
She leaned against the counter, eating slowly.
“Is this normal?” She murmured. “Eating cereal at four in the morning.”
She smiled faintly.
“…Did I do this before?” she asked herself. “Late-night snacks? Early-morning hunger?”
She finished the last bite and rinsed the cup.
She placed the cereal back, returned the milk to the fridge.
“There,” she said softly.
She picked up her phone.
“Back to bed,” she whispered. “But first…”
She began climbing the stairs, phone in hand.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
“…I need answers,” she murmured.
She typed into Google as she walked.
What’s the best way to trigger lost memories?
She stopped in the hallway and read.
“…Engaging in similar and familiar activities,” she read softly. “Being in familiar locations… doing things you loved before.”
She nodded slowly.
“Alright,” she whispered. “That makes sense.”
She looked around the hallway.
“This house,” she murmured. “It’s familiar even if it doesn’t feel that way yet.”
She exhaled.
“So all I need,” she said quietly, “is to figure out what I loved doing before.”
She smiled faintly.
“And then maybe… things will come back.”
She stepped into the master bedroom and turned off the lamp.
The room sank into darkness again.
She climbed into bed and pulled the covers over herself.
“Sleep now,” she whispered. “Tomorrow, we explore.”
She shifted onto her side.
“I’ll get my memories back,” she murmured. “One way or another.”
Her breathing slowed.
And within moments—
Silence reclaimed the room.
\---
'HOURS LATER'
The doorbell rang again— sharp, impatient, echoing through the mansion like it owned the place.
Maggie jolted awake with a gasp.
“Ahhhh…” she exhaled loudly, her chest rising and falling as she stretched her arms above her head, fingers curling, spine arching, while the sound of the bell drilled into her skull again.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
“What time is it?” she muttered, her voice thick with sleep as she reached blindly across the bed, fingers grazing silk sheets before finding the smooth glass of her phone.
She squinted when the screen lit up.
“It’s past ten,” she whispered, her brows knitting together. “What…?”
The doorbell rang again— longer this time.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
“Who could that be?” she murmured, dropping the phone back onto the bed as confusion crept across her face.
Her heart skipped.
Could that be Andrew?
She shot upright.
“Is our son with him?” she mumbled, already swinging her legs off the bed, excitement pushing the grogginess away.
She didn’t bother with shoes.
Bare feet hit the floor as she dashed through the hallway, her palm brushing against the wall to steady herself as she moved too fast.
“I’m coming— hold on!” she yelled, her voice bouncing off the high ceilings.
The bell rang again, more insistent.
“I’m coming!” she shouted, breathless now, rushing down the staircase, her hand gripping the banister as she nearly missed a step.
She reached the bottom, heart racing, and crossed the marble floor in long strides.
Her hand wrapped around the door handle.
She pulled it open with a bright, eager smile already on her face.
“Andr—”
The word died in her throat.
Her smile froze.
The woman standing at the door was not Andrew.
She was tall, dressed casually but neatly, black hair pulled back, sharp eyes softened by a wide grin. Mid-forties, maybe. Confident posture. Familiar ease.
“Heyyyy!!!” the woman exclaimed, her face lighting up instantly when she saw Maggie.
Maggie blinked.
“Hey!!” she replied, but the enthusiasm didn’t reach her eyes.
“Maggie!” the woman said again, stepping closer, her smile unwavering. “I knew I saw a car entering this house yesterday. Where did you go? Why haven’t you been picking up my calls?”
Maggie’s brows furrowed slowly.
Her smile faded.
She tilted her head slightly, studying the woman’s face as if searching for something— anything— that sparked recognition.
“Please…” Maggie said carefully, her voice slower now, cautious. “Do I know you?”
The woman froze.
“What?” she said, her smile cracking.
Maggie swallowed.
“I know you must be confused by that question,” she continued, lifting her hands slightly in a placating gesture, “because clearly, the way you’re talking, it seems like you know me.”
The woman’s eyes narrowed, scanning Maggie’s face.
“I do,” she said. “Is this some kind of joke?”
Maggie shook her head immediately.
“No. No, I’m not joking.” She exhaled, shoulders dropping. “I had an accident about three weeks ago. I fell. I hit my head first.” She paused, watching the woman’s reaction. “One of the complications… I lost my memories. I’ve been in the hospital since then, receiving treatment. The doctors said I’m lucky to even be alive. I just got discharged yesterday.”
The woman’s mouth fell open.
“Whatttt?” she whispered, her eyes widening. “Really?!”
She took a step back, one hand flying to her chest.
“That’s a lie,” she murmured, shaking her head slowly as she stared at Maggie like she might vanish. “That has to be a lie.”
“It’s not,” Maggie said softly, offering a small, apologetic smile.
The woman sucked in a breath.
“That explains everything,” she said quietly. Then louder, rushed, “I’ve been here a couple of times this past week— and the week before. I rang the doorbell and no one answered. I was beginning to worry.” Her voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s fine,” Maggie replied gently.
The woman looked her over again, eyes softer now.
“Are you okay now?” she asked.
Maggie nodded. “I am. Aside from losing my memories.” She let out a small breath. “I believe they’ll come back in time.”
The woman nodded slowly, processing.
Then she extended her hand.
“I’m Tonia,” she said.
Maggie looked at the hand for a second before taking it.
“Maggie,” she replied. Then smiled. “Clearly, you know that.”
“Yes,” Tonia said softly. “I do.” As she gestured rightward with her arm.
“I’m your neighbor— to the right.”
“Ohhh,” Maggie said, nodding slowly.
“Yes,” Tonia confirmed.
A brief silence settled between them.
Maggie shifted her weight, glancing behind her into the quiet, massive house.
“Come in,” she said finally, stepping aside and gesturing inward.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Tonia said quickly. “I can always come back later.”
“Nonsense,” Maggie replied, shaking her head. “It’s fine. You’re not intruding. I insist.”
Tonia hesitated for half a second, then nodded.
“Okay.”
With that, they both stepped inside.