After returning from the clinic, Kathrine shut herself inside her room.
She did not turn on the lights. She did not call anyone. She simply sat there, staring at nothing, feeling everything at once. Exhaustion clung to her bones, heavy and suffocating, but worse than that was the hollow numbness spreading through her chest.
She felt dead inside.
She wanted to scream. To march straight to Roseline and demand answers. To grab her by the shoulders and shake the truth out of her. Everything Ester had said echoed endlessly in her head, fragments of a story that felt foreign and deeply personal at the same time.
But she could not.
Because she remembered none of it.
No matter how hard she tried, there were no images. No faces. No emotions attached to those words. Just an aching blank space where something important should have been.
Who was this man, George? And why couldn't she remember him?
The question haunted her.
