I woke up crying.
Not the pretty kind. The ugly kind. My face was wet, my eyes swollen shut, my nose stuffed. I had to breathe through my mouth like a dying goldfish.
And I had no idea why.
I blinked at the ceiling. Crystal chandelier. Twenty feet high. Where was I? I sat up slowly. My head throbbed. My chest ached like someone had reached inside and squeezed my heart until it stopped beating.
The bed was huge. The room was huge. Floor to ceiling windows showed a skyline I didn't recognize.
A photo frame sat facedown on the nightstand. I reached for it.
A woman stared back at me. Sharp blazer. Cold face. She looked like she had never laughed a day in her life. Not once.
I looked at my reflection in the dark TV screen across the room.
Same sharp jaw. Same dark hair. Same cold eyes.
That's me?
I touched my cheek. The woman in the reflection touched hers.
Okay. That was me. But I didn't feel like her. I felt like someone had scooped out my insides and left me empty.
A knock made me jump.
"Miss Vivian?"
A man's voice. Deep. Careful. Like he was approaching a wild animal that might bite him at any moment.
I opened my mouth to answer. Nothing came out. My throat was raw. Had I been screaming?
The door opened slowly.
A man stepped in. Tall. Broad shoulders. Sharp suit. His face was completely blank. But his eyes weren't blank at all. His eyes were scanning the room, cataloging everything, checking for threats.
Then his eyes landed on me.
And for a split second, something cracked in his expression. Worry? Pain? I couldn't tell. It disappeared so fast I almost missed it.
"You're awake," he said.
I nodded. Bad idea. My head pounded harder.
"Who are you?" My voice came out hoarse. Like I had swallowed broken glass.
He stiffened. Just barely. Almost invisible.
"I'm Lucas," he said slowly. "Your assistant."
Lucas.
The name didn't ring any bells. But when I said it in my head, something in my chest tightened anyway. Like my body remembered him even if my mind didn't.
"What happened to me?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked to the window and stood with his back to me, looking down at the city below.
"What do you remember?" he asked.
I thought about it. I really tried.
Nothing.
"I woke up crying," I said. "That's it. I don't remember anything before that."
Silence.
He turned around. His hands were clenched at his sides.
"Nothing at all?"
I shook my head. "I don't even know my own name. You said Vivian? Is that my name?"
He stared at me for a long moment. His jaw tightened. Then he did something I didn't expect.
He smiled.
It was a small smile. Sad, almost. But it reached his eyes.
"Yes," he said quietly. "You're Vivian."
"Vivian." I tried it on my tongue. "It sounds expensive."
His smile twitched. Almost a laugh. He caught himself quickly, but I saw it.
"You could say that," he said.
I looked around again. The massive bed. The chandelier. The skyline view.
"Am I rich?"
Lucas hesitated. He walked to the nightstand and picked up the photo. The one with the cold-faced woman. He turned it facedown again.
"You're comfortable," he said carefully. "Don't worry about money right now."
I frowned. That was a strange answer. But my head hurt too much to question it.
"Lucas," I said.
He flinched. I saw it clearly this time. A tiny jerk of his shoulder, like he expected me to yell.
"Did I used to yell at you?" I asked.
He didn't answer.
"Did I used to be mean to you?"
Still no answer. But his silence was louder than words.
I suddenly felt terrible. I didn't remember anything about him. But my gut told me I hadn't been kind. And yet here he was. Standing in my room. Looking at me with those careful eyes.
"I'm sorry," I said.
He went completely still. Like I had said something in a language he didn't understand.
"What?"
"I'm sorry. For whatever I did. I don't remember it. But I'm sorry."
Lucas stared at me for a long, long time.
Then he turned away. Walked to the window again. But this time I saw his hand come up to his face. Scrubbing. Like he was wiping something away.
"You should rest," he said. His voice was rough. "I'll bring you breakfast."
He was at the door when I called out.
"Lucas?"
He stopped. Didn't turn around.
"One more thing. My heart hurts. I don't know why. But it feels like someone broke it."
His hand tightened on the door handle.
"Do you know who did this to me?"
The silence stretched between us. I could see his reflection in the glass door of a cabinet. His jaw was tight. His eyes were closed.
Then he opened the door.
"Get some rest, Miss Vivian. You have a long way to go."
He left.
I lay back in my giant bed, staring at the ceiling.
I didn't remember anything. Not my name. Not my life. Not the face of whoever made my chest ache like this.
But I remembered one thing.
When Lucas said Miss Vivian, it sounded like goodbye.