I
don’t know who I am. I can’t remember my name, where I come from,
or how I ended up in the hospital with a bullet wound to my chest.
When I think back, searching for a memory, all I see is a big black
hole of nothing.
But
I recall her voice…the sweet, angelic sound that reached out to me
through the coffin of black, pulling me back to the light.
I
might not know anything about my past, my life, my identity—but the
moment I opened my eyes and stared straight into hers, I knew I
wanted her. I knew there was no way in hell I would let her go.
Now
I need to piece back together the missing fragments of my life so I
can figure out where she fits into it—or if she fits into it at
all.
The
only problem is if your past is buried beneath a shroud of darkness,
you have no idea when it might come back to haunt you.
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