Synopsis of Forgotten by Marti York
Molly Copper has amnesia. This is no soap opera. She was attacked, suffered a head injury, and can’t remember herself or her past. According to the guy claiming to be her literary agent, Molly is a successful fiction author. It must be the truth because she lives in an expensive Manhattan apartment, and her published novels are on a shelf in her office. Molly’s agent is concerned enough to hire a security specialist to protect her until the assailant is caught. But can Molly trust either of these men? How can she know when she can’t even trust herself. Her memories slowly return, but they are disjointed and jumbled. As she tries to make sense of them, Molly becomes increasingly distrustful. Are the people closest to her out to help her or out to destroy her?
Chapter One, Part One of Forgotten by Marti York
People tell me my name is Molly Copper, but I find that hard to believe. It’s such a strange name. Not Cooper. Copper, like the metal. Or what the British call their police officers. Strange.
My face is strange, too. I would describe it as halfway to ugly. Looking in the mirror is an exercise in coping with emotional pain. My gaze immediately goes to the scar that slashes across the left side of nose and down into my upper lip. They tell me the grotesque marks were the result of a childhood accident when I was learning to walk. Apparently, I grabbed onto the china cabinet to pull myself up but pulled the whole thing over on top of me instead. When they righted the cabinet and rescued me from underneath the pile of broken glass and dishes, my face was soaked with blood.
The Injuries to my nose and lip were the worst. But if I lean in really close to the mirror, I can see a bunch of other tiny scars on my face. Same thing with my arms. And there’s another sizable scar near my left knee.
I don’t remember it happening. I was too young. Not even a year old at the time.
But, even if I had carried that memory with me, it’s gone now because, three days ago, I blinked my eyes open to confusion. The sights, sounds, and smells of a hospital room overwhelmed my senses. Greenish-gray walls, rolling bed tray, beeps, antiseptic. I was in a hospital bed, but I had no idea why.
Panic tumbled through my chest and belly when I couldn’t figure it out. Suddenly, I couldn’t catch my breath. The hospital gown felt too tight around my neck, so I tucked my fingers into the neckline. The material was loose, though, almost to my cleavage. The gown wasn’t strangling me. My panic was.
I reached for the call button just as two men entered my room. “Who are you?” I asked around the fear bubbling in my throat.
The shorter one rushed to my bedside, saying “Molly. You’re awake. Finally. Are you okay?”
The other one, tall and silent, stood just inside the doorway. They both wore nice suits, but the tall, silent one filled his out much better. I got the impression that he could easily hurt someone. The sight of him gave me a confusing jolt, lust mixed with terror.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
Gaze ping-ponging between the two of them, I tried to sit up in the bed. Before I got my shoulders off the mattress, pain exploded in my temples. My hands cupped the sides of my head, my fingers pressing into my brow.
“Let me help. The controller is here.” The one doing all the talking pressed some buttons, and the bed lifted me into a sitting position.
“You called me Molly?” I gasped out, still trying to rub the pain out of my forehead.
His lips quirked. “That’s your name, isn’t it?”
I dropped my hands and looked at him. He seemed to know me, but I didn’t know him. “I...”
His smile faded away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to call the nurse?”
“Yes, call the nurse. Then get out. Both of you.”
He pressed the call button as he said, “You want us to leave?”
“Yes. Please leave me alone.” The panic went from bubbling in my chest to clawing at my throat.
“But Molly—”
“Stop calling me Molly. I don’t know who Molly is, and I don’t know who you are.”
“Molly, it’s me, Benny. Don’t you remember me?”
“No, I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything. Please. Just leave.”
But they didn’t leave. Instead, the one who said his name was Benny stepped closer, and the panic nearly ripped my vocal cords out.
“No,” I yelled at him. Then I yelled toward the door. “Help. Nurse. Please, help me.”
I tried to get out of the bed, but he blocked me. Throwing my hands up to thwart him, I shrank back. That’s when the other one finally moved forward.
“Benny, back off,” he said, “She’s upset, and you’re just making it worse.” My savior. Or my worst nightmare. What if these guys were pulling some kind of con on me? What if they were the reason I was in the hospital, come to finish the job? Uncertainty was a knife in my chest. I couldn’t breathe. Was this the way they would finish me off, just by standing near me until my fear destroyed me?
A nurse entered the room, asking, “What’s going on?”
“I want them to leave,” I exclaimed. “But they won’t.”
“Molly,” Benny said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I speared my gaze his way. Maybe I could scare him off with a hateful expression. “How do I know that? I don’t know who you are.”
“I told you. I’m Benny.”
“Stop saying that.” I put my hands to my ears in frustration and because my head was pounding again. “I don’t know you. I just want you to leave me alone.”
“Sir,” the nurse says. “It’s probably best if you leave for now. Let the doctor check her out.”
He started to say something but stopped and nodded. “All right. If you think that’s the best thing for her right now. But she said she doesn’t remember anything, not even who she is.”
“It’s okay. I’ll tell the doctor.” The nurse held the door open.
When they passed through and I couldn’t see them anymore, I collapsed onto the mattress. “Thank you.”
The nurse held my wrist, taking my pulse. “You don’t remember anything?”
“No. Everything’s fuzzy. He called me Molly. Is that my name?”
“Yes. Molly Copper according to your ID.”
I pushed my hair back. “My head hurts. What happened to me? Why am I here?”
“According to your friend, you were mugged. He found you unconscious in the alley next to his office building.”
“What friend?”
She tilted her head toward the door. “One of the guys who just left. The one who didn’t seem to want to leave.”
My fingernails dug into my palms. “I don’t know him. I can’t remember anything.”
The nurse grabbed the blood pressure cup. “Let’s get your BP.” She took my blood pressure and wrote something on my chart. “I’m going to get the doctor to come examine you. Sit tight, okay?”
I nodded and sat tight, staring out the window, occasionally watching tv, and eating what they brought me. The doctor showed up that evening and ordered an MRI of my brain. The next morning, the doctor told me I had amnesia because of a head injury. But she assured me my memory would return as my injury healed. Then she sent me home.
Copyright 2024
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