Luna Pandora's Revenge

Chapter 5

As the woman embraced me, a sense of unease washed over me. I felt like a stranger, surrounded by unfamiliar faces that claimed to be my family.

Gently pulling away from her embrace, I took a deep breath and spoke with as much clarity as I could muster. "I'm sorry, but my name is not Anna. It's Pandora. Pandora Taylor."

I could see the perplexed expression on my supposed mother's face as she tried to process my words. Her grip on my arm tightened slightly, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and confusion.

"Pandora? What are you talking about, dear?" she asked, her voice wavering. "You've always been Anna. You must be confused from the accident and the coma."

My supposed father stepped forward, his voice filled with a forced calmness. "Sweetheart, we understand that this may be overwhelming for you, but you've been through a traumatic experience. It's natural to feel disoriented and have gaps in your memory. We're here to support you and help you through this."

Their words should have reassured me, but instead, they only deepened my sense of suspicion. The disconnect between my memories and the narrative presented to me grew wider, and I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling that something was amiss. Could it be that they were involved with Elena and Xavier? Were they playing a part in this elaborate charade?

As I stood there, contemplating my next move, a risky plan began to form in my mind. Perhaps, for now, I should play along with their narrative and pretend to have forgotten my past, including the torment I endured at the hands of Elena and Xavier. It was clear that they expected me to embrace the role of Anna, their beloved daughter, and comply with their version of events.

Suppressing my skepticism, I forced a hesitant smile and feigned confusion. "I... I'm sorry. It's just all so overwhelming. I... I can't seem to remember anything clearly. Maybe you're right, maybe it's just the accident and the coma that have clouded my memory."

My supposed parents exchanged glances, a mixture of relief and concern evident in their eyes. It seemed they were eager to believe my words.

Dr. Lawson, who had been silently observing our conversation, stepped forward with a reassuring smile. "It's not uncommon for memory loss to occur after a traumatic event, Anna. With the right therapy and support, we can help you recover your lost memories."

"We have a team of specialists experienced in memory recovery," he continued. "We'll work together to create a safe and supportive environment for you, Anna. It may take time, but we're committed to helping you remember and heal."

He explained that they would start with cognitive therapy, designed to stimulate memory recall and aid in the recovery process. Dr. Lawson assured me that he would personally oversee my case and do his best to guide me through this challenging journey.

"Thank you, Dr. Lawson," I replied, trying to convey a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "I'm willing to undergo therapy and do whatever it takes to remember who I truly am. I just want to find the truth."

The doctor nodded. "That's the spirit, Anna. I understand that you may be eager to return home, but given the circumstances, it's important that we ensure your safety. We need to be certain that nothing will happen to you. Once we're confident that your condition is stable, we can discuss your discharge and continued therapy on an outpatient basis."

With that, Dr. Lawson excused himself from the room, leaving me alone with the strangers who claimed to be my parents. As the door closed behind him, a heavy silence settled upon us, punctuated only by the sound of my own racing thoughts.

I studied their faces, searching for any sign of deception or ulterior motives. Their expressions mirrored concern and relief, but doubts still lingered within me. The unease I felt earlier hadn't dissipated; if anything, it had intensified.

It was clear that my supposed parents, whoever they truly were, wanted me to believe their version of events. If I wanted to uncover the depths of this charade, I had to tread cautiously and gather as much information as possible.

Taking a deep breath, I gazed at my supposed mother with a tentative smile. "I... I'm still struggling to process everything. Can you help me remember? Tell me more about our life together, about the things we used to do."

She hesitated for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "Of course, dear," she finally replied. "We used to enjoy family vacations, spending time at the beach. And you loved painting, Anna. You had a talent for it, just like your grandmother."

I had never held a paintbrush in my life and this woman was claiming that I loved to paint.

"Painting? That's interesting. What kind of paintings did I create? Do we have any of them?"

"Well, dear, you had a knack for landscapes and still-life paintings. All of your artwork are at home but I could bring some for you to see later."

I decided to probe further, hoping to catch any inconsistencies or slip-ups in her narrative. "I would really love to see my paintings. They must hold special memories for me. Could you describe one of them in more detail? Maybe that will help me remember."

"Oh, um... Well, one of your most memorable paintings was a serene landscape of a sunset over a lake. You captured the vibrant colors and the reflection of the sky on the water perfectly. It was truly breathtaking."

The image she described with her words seemed far beyond my capabilities, considering I struggled to draw a straight line without a ruler. How could I have possibly created such intricate and breathtaking artwork?

However, I maintained my composure, not revealing my skepticism. Instead, I nodded slowly, trying to convey a sense of familiarity. "That sounds incredible. I can almost visualize it in my mind. I would love to see that painting and all the others you mentioned."

"I'll bring some of your paintings during my next visit, Anna. I'm sure they'll help jog your memory and bring you comfort."

Before she had a chance to divert the conversation, I decided to bring up another important question. "The nurse mentioned that I have a brother. Where is he? I would really like to meet him."

The man who claimed to be my father exchanged a glance with her, and a faint furrow appeared on his brow. "Tyler is... currently busy with some very important work, my dear," he responded. "But don't worry, he's aware of your situation, and he will visit you as soon as possible."

Their vague response raised even more suspicions within me. If they were truly my family, why would my own brother not be by my side during this challenging time?

Suppressing my growing frustration, I nodded with a hint of disappointment. "I understand. I look forward to meeting him when he can make it."

As they continued to share stories about the past, I listened attentively, trying to absorb as much information as possible. They described family outings, my hobbies, and even shared anecdotes about my childhood friends.

As the conversation flowed, I found an opportunity to ask a crucial question that had been gnawing at me. "I understand that I was in an accident, but could you please tell me more about how it happened?"

My supposed mother's face turned solemn, and she exchanged a concerned glance with my supposed father before speaking. "Oh, dear, it was a terrible accident. You were returning from a party with your friends, and there was a collision with another car. It resulted in a severe head injury and put you in a coma."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," my supposed father added, his voice filled with a mix of sadness and guilt. "We were devastated when we received the news."

"But please, Anna, you don't need to dwell on the accident. It's in the past now, and what's important is that you're here with us, safe and recovering. We're doing everything we can to help you through this."

"I understand," I replied. "But I can't help but feel curious about the details surrounding the accident. It's a significant event in my life, and understanding it might help me piece together my memories."

My supposed mother's expression turned troubled, but she nodded reluctantly. "I suppose it's natural to have questions. The accident happened late at night, and there were no witnesses. The other driver was at fault. They ran a red light, and the collision was unavoidable."

She paused for a moment, her eyes glistening with a hint of sorrow. "The impact was severe, and you suffered a head injury. The doctors did everything they could to save you, but you slipped into a coma. We were told that your chances of recovery were very slim."

"I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you," I responded, careful to choose my words. "But can you tell me more about the investigation into the accident? Was the other driver held accountable?"

My supposed father sighed heavily, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. "The investigation took place, but unfortunately, there wasn't enough evidence to conclusively prove the other driver's fault. They denied running the red light, and without any witnesses, it became a challenging case."

He continued, his voice tinged with frustration. "The legal process was slow and complicated, and it eventually led to a dead end. We don't want to put you through more stress, so it is better to focus on your recovery instead."

"It's been quite an eventful day for you. You need to get plenty of rest now. We'll be back later to check on you. Take care, Anna."

He leaned down and kissed me gently on the forehead. The woman followed suit, her lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "We love you, Anna. Remember, we're here for you."

With that, they turned and left the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. As the door closed behind them, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over me. Doubt, suspicion, and a burning desire for revenge wrestled within my mind.

Determined to unravel the truth behind my supposed accident and head injury, I cast my gaze around the hospital room, searching for a mirror. My eyes fell upon a small, rectangular mirror hanging on the wall near the door. It seemed like a simple item, but at that moment, it held the promise of revealing a critical piece of information.

My body felt heavy, and each movement brought a sharp, throbbing pain. I pushed through the discomfort, dragging my weakened body toward the mirror.

Finally, I reached the mirror, my breaths labored and sweat glistening on my forehead. I gingerly raised my hand and touched the cool glass, bracing myself for what I might see.

As my eyes met my reflection, I took in the sight before me. A young woman with blonde hair and blue eyes stared back at me. She had very pale skin and I had never seen her before. I blinked several times, hoping that the reflection in the mirror would transform, revealing my true self. But each time, the image remained the same—an unfamiliar face that bore no resemblance to the person I believed myself to be. This woman was a complete stranger.