Lost Identity by Leona Karr

for even the two days that she’d promised to stay.
    Andrew held his breath that everything would go quickly and smoothly at registration. He had called ahead and talked with Dr. Duboise. The doctor had assured him that everything would be ready for Trish’s admittance.
    A pleasant middle-aged woman at the reception desk nodded when Andrew gave his name. “Oh, yes, Mr. Davis. We’ve been expecting you.” She smiled at Trish, and put out her hand. “I’m Ms. Sloan. We have a nice room all ready for you, Trish.”
    The use of her name and the warm clasp of the woman’s hand sent a momentary flicker of reliefthrough Trish. She had expected to be treated like some poor victim who couldn’t remember who she was instead of a person with all her faculties.
    “Would you like to look over the premises before you settle in?” Ms. Sloan asked in an easy, friendly manner.
    Andrew decided that the question must be a routine one. Apparently it was the hospital’s policy to give people a chance to change their minds, he thought, holding his breath as he searched Trish’s face to see what her response was going to be. Would she take advantage of the momentary reprieve and head back to the car?
    Fortunately, there was only a slight hesitation before she said, “No, thank you. I’d rather go to my room.”
    “Fine.” Ms. Sloan smiled. “If you’ll follow me, please. It’s just a short walk across the grounds to your building.”
    Andrew kept his arm through Trish’s as they followed a sidewalk that led them to a two-storied pink stucco building that looked every bit like a college dormitory.
    “You have room 110,” Ms. Sloan told them as she opened a door on the first floor and motioned them inside.
    Trish was surprised at the homey charm of the room, and its generous size. There was nothing of a sterile institution about the accommodations. Furnishings were in shades of a restful pink and green. Soft pillows brightened two lounge chairs and a single bed, which was covered with a pastel floral skirt and harmonizing bedspread. An adjoining bathroom was small with cream-colored fixtures and ceramic tiles.
    “This building is close to the physical therapy andoccupational therapy departments,” Ms. Sloan told Trish with a smile as if she were a social director acquainting a guest with all the offered accommodations. “Dr. Duboise will be by later to get acquainted and set up a time for daily therapy.” She pointed out a telephone on a small desk. “If there’s anything you need, just lift the receiver.” She paused. “Do you have any questions?”
    Trish suppressed the impulse to reply that at the moment questions were all she had. She simply shook her head. “No.”
    Responding to the lost look in Trish’s eyes, Ms. Sloan reached out and touched Trish’s hand. “We’re a friendly bunch, Trish. You’re going to like us. I promise.”
    The pinched lines around Trish’s mouth eased and she gave the woman a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
    “I’ll leave you then,” she said.
    Andrew held out his hand. “Thank you, Ms. Sloan.” He was deeply grateful to her. She had offered Trish a reassurance that went beyond just professional concern.
    She nodded and left them alone in the room.
    Trish slowly walked over to a large window that overlooked plantings of flowers, trees and an expanse of emerald grass. Very deliberately, she drew the drapes, shutting out the view. Then she turned to Andrew. “I can handle it from here.”
    The dismissing edge of her tone cut him to the quick. As she stood there in the shadows of the darkened room, she looked like a child trying to hide from the world.
    He moved quickly to her side. “Don’t be frightened. It’s going to be all right.”

    She lowered her head to keep him from seeing tears spilling from the corner of her eyes.
    “I’m going to be here for you,” he promised. He gently eased back strands of hair falling over her face and tucked them behind her ears. Then he