It’s been six weeks since I woke up after surgery to find her gone, and she still shows up whenever my brain has a second to wander. All those sense memories, fragmented and distorted.
The ring in her palm.
Her mouth an inch from mine.
I never got her last name. I woke up in that hospital bed alone, with a nurse telling me the woman I came in with had ran out hours ago. She left behind no note and no phone number. Nothing to prove she was ever even real.
Whatever she was, whatever she wasn’t, it’s over now. I’ve got a dying man in the next room to finish killing.
The deposition wraps an hour later. Greg signs what he has to sign. His lawyer won’t meet my eyes, because he knows I just destroyed him. My clients will get their massive settlement, and Greg will get a tiny studio apartment
