Jeremih
“Okay Chaz, are you ready for that meeting tomorrow?” My boss Diego asked, the moment I stepped into his office. It had been a little over a year since I woke up from my comma and I still had no idea who I was expect that I had a daughter named Isabell, and we were American. The only reason I knew we were American is because when she spoke to me in English I spoke back in the same language and my accent was perfect, so we alternated between the two languages often.
The moment I stepped out of the hospital, Rosa, who was the woman claiming to be my fiancée and her father brought me to a broken down farm, that looked as if it hadn’t been tended to in a long time.
For two weeks I tended to the farm; however, it was difficult because I had no idea what I was doing. Rosa kept telling
