Chapter 154: You Look Exhausted...

The room was quiet except for the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. A thin beam of afternoon sunlight slipped through the half-open blinds, falling across the doctor’s desk and illuminating the edges of the papers scattered over it. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant, paper, and the coffee that had been left untouched in a mug near the computer.

Sylvia had tried sitting still.

She had tried looking through the window, reading the certificates hanging on the wall, and even counting the seconds between each tick of the clock.

Nothing worked.

Her thoughts kept returning to the same question.

Where was Amelia?

She lowered her eyes to her hands. Her fingers were locked so tightly together that her knuckles had turned pale. When she noticed, she forced them apart and rubbed her palms against her trousers.

She was frightened.

Not knowing where Amelia was or whether she was safe was worse than she had expected. Every possible explanation that entered her mind seemed more frightening than the one before it.

Perhaps Amelia had developed another headache. Perhaps she had collapsed again. Perhaps something had happened while Sylvia was outside the room.

Or perhaps Amelia had left because she no longer wanted to see her.

That possibility had been following Sylvia since she discovered the empty bed.

She had hoped that a doctor would appear and explain that there had been a simple misunderstanding.

Instead, she had spent the next few minutes trying to reach Amelia and Camila, only to receive no answer.

Now, she was sitting in the office, waiting for the one person she hoped could give her some clarity.

Sylvia lifted her head and looked at the clock again.

How long could an operation take?

She knew that doctors could not abandon their patients simply because someone was waiting for them. She understood that. She had no intention of rushing him out of the operating theater.

But she was struggling to keep her fear under control.

She pressed her lips together and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"Minnie, please be okay," she whispered.

The words barely made a sound.

She wanted to call Amelia again, but she had already tried so many times. She could not bring herself to listen to another unanswered call, to stare at the screen and wonder whether Amelia was ignoring her or simply unable to reach her phone.

Sylvia took out her phone anyway.

Amelia’s name was still at the top of her recent calls.

She opened their conversation and stared at the last few messages. Sylvia’s thumb hovered over the message box.

*Where are you, Minnie?*

She typed the words, stared at them, then deleted them.

What was the point of sending another message if Amelia was not going to read it?

She locked the screen and placed the phone beside her.

A soft sound came from the corridor. Sylvia immediately straightened.

Footsteps approached the office, followed by the sound of someone speaking quietly to a nurse. A moment later, the door opened and the doctor stepped inside.

He was dressed in a white coat over his scrubs. His brown hair was slightly flattened from wearing his surgical cap, and his blue eyes carried the tiredness of someone who had spent hours concentrating on a difficult task.

He closed the door behind him and looked at Sylvia.

"Miss Sylvia?"

Sylvia rose so quickly that the chair shifted backward with a faint scrape against the floor.

"Doctor."

Dr. Bennett placed a folder on his desk.

"I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I was in the operating theater."

"I understand." Sylvia swallowed, trying to steady her voice. "I know you were working. I just... I really need to speak with you."

He studied her face for a moment before gesturing toward the chair.

"Please, sit down."

Sylvia sat, although every part of her wanted to keep moving until she found Amelia.

Dr. Bennett took his seat behind the desk. "Tell me what’s happening."

"Amelia is missing."

"You mean Miss Winston?" Dr. Bennett asked.

Sylvia nodded.

"I went to her room, and she wasn’t there. At first, I thought someone had taken her for another examination, but nobody could give me an answer." She paused, struggling to organize her thoughts. "Her belongings were gone too. I asked the nurses, and I spoke to the ward supervisor, but I still don’t know where she is."

She leaned forward.

"Doctor, was she taken somewhere? Did something happen to her while I was away?"

Dr. Bennett listened without interrupting.

When she finished, he folded his hands on the desk.

"I can see that you’re distressed, Miss Sylvia."

"Of course I’m distressed." The words came out more sharply than she intended.

Sylvia immediately lowered her gaze.

"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to speak to you like that."

"You don’t need to apologize for being worried."

His calm response made her eyes sting.

She blinked quickly and looked at him again.

"Then please help me. I don’t know what to do anymore."

Dr. Bennett remained quiet for a moment.

"Before I can discuss anything concerning a patient, I need to consider their privacy and whether I have the appropriate authorization to share that information."

Sylvia stared at him. "What does that mean?"

"It means I cannot discuss confidential medical information simply because someone asks for it."

"But I’m her girlfriend."

"I understand."

"No, Doctor, I don’t think you do." Sylvia pressed a hand against her chest. "She was in this hospital because of an accident. She has been struggling with her memory, and she doesn’t even remember our relationship properly. She was frightened when I left her room for a few minutes. She asked me not to leave her alone."

Her voice trembled. "And now she’s gone."

She looked down at her hands, trying to hold herself together.

"I promised her I would stay."

The memory came back with painful clarity.

Sylvia had wanted to protect her from everything that frightened her. She had wanted to give Amelia time to recover without demanding that she remember the life they had shared.

She had never imagined that Amelia might leave before Sylvia had the chance to do any of that.

"I keep wondering whether I did something wrong," she admitted. "Maybe I made her uncomfortable. Maybe she woke up and realized she didn’t want me near her."

Dr. Bennett watched her carefully.

"Miss Ashford, you should be careful not to assume what happened without knowing the facts."

"That’s exactly why I’m here." Sylvia looked at him pleadingly. "I want to know the facts."

"I understand."

"Then can you tell me where she is?"

Dr. Bennett did not answer immediately.

He turned slightly toward his computer, but he did not begin typing. Instead, he looked back at Sylvia.

"I’m afraid I cannot disclose confidential information about Miss Winston’s whereabouts or medical records without the appropriate authorization."

Sylvia stared at him as though she had not understood his words. "Her whereabouts?"

"Yes."

"You’re saying you know something about where she is, but you won’t tell me?"

"I’m saying that I cannot discuss confidential patient information without proper authorization."

Sylvia felt her stomach tighten. "But she’s missing."

"I understand that this is how the situation appears to you."

"How it appears to me?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Doctor, I walked into her room and found her gone. Nobody can tell me where she is. I have called her phone repeatedly, and she hasn’t answered. Her friend isn’t answering either. What else am I supposed to think?"

Dr. Bennett allowed her to finish before speaking.

"I appreciate how frightening this must be. However, I must follow the hospital’s confidentiality procedures. I cannot confirm or disclose private details about a patient’s care without the appropriate authority."

Sylvia slowly shook her head.

"I don’t understand."

She had expected him to tell her that Amelia had been taken for another examination, that she was resting somewhere, or that there had been a mistake with her room assignment.

She had not expected to sit in front of a doctor and be told that he could not give her the answers she needed.

"She’s not a stranger to me," she said quietly.

"I understand that you have a close relationship with her."

"Then why does it feel as though everyone is treating me like I have no right to care about her?"

Her voice broke on the last word.

Sylvia looked away, embarrassed by the tears gathering in her eyes. She hated crying in front of people, especially when she was trying to convince them that she could handle a difficult situation.

But she had reached a point where she could no longer pretend she was fine.

She had spent the entire time trying to remain strong for Amelia. She had smiled when Amelia asked questions she should have known the answers to. She had swallowed her sadness when Amelia looked at her without recognition. She had reassured her that she would wait for her memories to return, even when the thought of being forgotten felt like a knife pressed against her heart.

And now, she did not even know where the woman she loved was sleeping.

Dr. Bennett passed a box of tissues across the desk.

Sylvia accepted one and dabbed at the corner of her eye.

"I’m sorry," she murmured.

"You don’t need to apologize."

She took a shaky breath. "Can you at least tell me whether she’s safe?"

Dr. Bennett’s expression remained composed.

"I cannot confirm private medical details without the required authorization, Miss Sylvia."

Sylvia’s fingers tightened around the tissue.

"Even that?"

"I know this is difficult to hear, but I cannot make an exception simply because the information is important to you."

She looked at him for a long moment.

There was no cruelty in his face. He was not mocking her or enjoying her distress. He appeared genuinely sympathetic, but his sympathy did not change the answer.

That almost made it worse.

If he had been rude, Sylvia could have argued with him. If he had dismissed her concerns, she could have demanded to speak to someone else.

Instead, he was sitting across from her, speaking calmly while every question she asked met the same invisible wall.

"Did Amelia ask you not to tell anyone where she was?" Sylvia asked suddenly.

Dr. Bennett did not respond immediately.

Sylvia watched his face, searching for the smallest sign of recognition.

"Doctor?"

"I’m unable to discuss any private communication or instructions relating to a patient without appropriate authorization."

She closed her eyes briefly.

That wasn’t an answer, but she could hear the refusal beneath it.

Someone had made a decision.

And Sylvia was not being allowed to know what that decision was.

She placed the tissue on her lap and tried to think clearly.

"All right," she said after a moment. "I understand that you have rules. I’m not asking you to break them."

Dr. Bennett gave a slight nod.

"But I need to know what I’m supposed to do now."

"If you’re concerned that Miss Winston may be in immediate danger, you should contact the appropriate emergency services. You may also speak with the hospital’s patient relations or privacy office about your concerns. They can explain the proper process for making a request."

Sylvia looked at him.

"Will they tell me where she is?"

"They will explain what information can lawfully be provided and what authorization may be required. I cannot promise that they will disclose confidential details."

She let out a slow breath. At least he had given her something she could do.

It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was more than another instruction to wait.

"Fine," she whispered. "I’ll speak to them."

Dr. Bennett nodded. "That would be the appropriate next step."

Sylvia rose from the chair, then paused beside the desk.

"Doctor, can I ask you one more thing?"

"Of course."

She looked at him, her eyes still damp.

"If she comes back here... if Amelia returns to this hospital, will someone tell me?"

Dr. Bennett considered his answer carefully.

"Any decision to contact you would depend on the circumstances, the patient’s wishes, and the applicable privacy requirements. I cannot promise that you would automatically be notified."

Sylvia’s shoulders dropped.

She had not realized how much she had been hoping for that promise until he refused to give it to her.

She had imagined receiving a phone call telling her that Amelia was back. She had imagined rushing to her room and finding her sitting on the bed, perhaps looking frightened or angry, perhaps asking Sylvia why she had taken so long to return.

She had imagined holding her hand again.

Now, even that small hope felt uncertain.

"Thank you for your time," she managed to say.

Dr. Bennett stood. "I hope the situation becomes clearer for you."

Sylvia nodded, though she was no longer sure what clarity would look like.

She walked toward the door and placed her hand on the handle.

For a moment, she remained there with her back to him.

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

Sylvia turned her head slightly.

"She has trouble remembering things. Sometimes she gets frightened, and she doesn’t always know what to do with those feelings." She swallowed. "If she’s somewhere unfamiliar, I hope someone is being patient with her."

Her voice softened. "Please, I hope she’s not alone."

Dr. Bennett’s expression gentled, but he did not offer information he was not permitted to share.

"I hope she is receiving the care and support she needs."

Sylvia lowered her eyes.

It was the closest thing to reassurance she was going to receive.

She opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

The hospital seemed louder than before. A trolley rattled somewhere nearby, a nurse called to a colleague, and the distant sound of a monitor beeped steadily from one of the rooms.

Life continued around her as though nothing had happened.

Sylvia stood still for a few seconds, holding her phone in one hand.

She had come into the office hoping to leave with an answer.

Instead, she had learned that she might have to accept not knowing.

She moved toward the waiting area and sat on one of the chairs beside the wall. The plastic seat was cold beneath her, and the fluorescent lights overhead made her reflection look pale in the dark screen of her phone.

She opened Amelia’s contact again.

Her photograph appeared on the screen.

Amelia was smiling in it, her head tilted slightly to one side, with a few strands of hair falling across her forehead. Sylvia remembered taking the picture. Amelia had complained that Sylvia was holding the phone at an unflattering angle, then immediately demanded to see the result.

When Sylvia had shown her, Amelia had taken the phone and examined the picture for nearly a minute.

Then she had smiled and said, "Fine. You can keep it."

Sylvia’s lips trembled. She pressed the phone against her chest for a moment before lowering it.

How could someone who had once filled so much of her life become someone she could not even find?

She tapped the call button.

The phone rang.

Sylvia held it against her ear and listened, hardly daring to breathe.

She waited, staring at the floor. Then the call ended without an answer.

She lowered the phone. For a moment, she simply sat there, unable to move.

She wanted to be angry with Amelia. She wanted to tell her that leaving without a word was cruel, that Sylvia had spent the entire day terrified, and that she deserved at least a little explanation.

But every time anger began to rise, another thought followed.

What if Amelia had been frightened?

What if she had believed leaving was the only way to feel safe?

Sylvia pressed her fingertips against her eyes.

She could not force Amelia to remember their relationship. She could not demand that Amelia trust her simply because they had loved each other before the accident.

And she could not make Amelia stay.

That was the hardest part.

Love had always made Sylvia feel as though there was something she could do. If Amelia was upset, Sylvia could hold her. If she was tired, Sylvia could make her rest. If she was angry, Sylvia could wait until she was ready to talk.

But this was different.

She could not reach Amelia’s memories.

She could not follow her into whatever fear or confusion had driven her away.

All she could do was hope that Amelia was somewhere safe.

A vibration interrupted her thoughts.

Sylvia looked down quickly, expecting Amelia’s name to appear on the screen.

It was Stella calling.

For a moment, Sylvia did not answer. She knew Stella would ask about Amelia, and she had no idea how to explain what had happened without making the situation sound worse than it already was.

But avoiding the call would not change anything.

She swiped to answer.

"Hello, Mom."

"Sylvia?" Stella’s voice came through the phone. "We’ve arrived at the hospital. Your father and I are near the main entrance. Where are you?"

Sylvia closed her eyes. "Near the waiting area."

"All right. We’re coming to find you."

The call ended.

Sylvia placed the phone in her lap and stared ahead.

A few minutes later, she heard Stella calling her name.

She looked up.

Stella was approaching with Mr. Winston beside her. Both of them looked concerned, and the moment Stella saw Sylvia’s face, her expression changed.

"What happened?" she asked, hurrying toward her. "Have you found Amelia?"

Sylvia shook her head. "No."

Stella stopped in front of her. "What do you mean, no? Have you spoken to the doctor?"

"Yes."

"And?"

Sylvia rose slowly. "He said he couldn’t disclose confidential information about Amelia’s whereabouts or medical records without the appropriate authorization."

Stella stared at her.

Mr. Winston’s brows drew together. "Did he say where she was taken?"

"No."

"Did he at least confirm that she was transferred?"

Sylvia shook her head again. "He wouldn’t discuss private details."

Mr. Winston looked toward the corridor leading to the doctors’ offices.

"Then we need to speak to someone who can help us understand what’s happening."

"I know." Sylvia rubbed her hands together. "The doctor told me I could speak to the hospital’s patient relations or privacy office. They can explain the proper process."

Stella reached for Sylvia’s hand. "Come here, sweetheart."

Sylvia moved closer, and Stella gently squeezed her fingers. "You look exhausted."

"I am."

"Have you eaten anything?"

Sylvia shook her head.

Stella’s expression filled with concern, but she did not press the matter.

Mr. Winston remained quiet for a moment before asking, "Have you heard from Camila? Or Amelia herself?"

"No." Sylvia swallowed. "I called her again. She didn’t answer."

Stella drew her into a brief embrace.

Sylvia stood stiffly for a second before leaning against her. The familiar warmth made the tears return, and she held on to Stella’s shoulders as she tried to steady her breathing.

"I don’t know where she is," Sylvia whispered.

Stella stroked her back gently.

"I know."

"I don’t know if she’s okay. I don’t know if she’s angry with me. I don’t even know if she wants me to look for her."

Her voice cracked.

"I promised her I would stay, Mom. I promised."