Assembling Fragments

We took a seat in the hotel room: Me on a small sofa and Silvia on the bed. The fact that this room has a sofa at all is evidence of its rather luxurious undertone: clean, bright and very spacious. The room is actually far too big for just one person - there's no doubt that it's supposed to be a double suite.

But basically it's a nice place to find some peace and quiet after my training - if I didn't have to work. Of course, I'm not obligated to devote myself to my work until late in the evening, but I definitely want to write down and evaluate today's findings - even if there aren't many. Nevertheless, I have to give my best at all times; my future may depend on this case.

Actually, I'm doing all this more for myself than for Silvia.
Should I feel bad about it?
I don't know.

“Did you notice anything familiar in the sunny shopping street?” I ask again.

“Nope.”
Silvia replies briefly and succinctly.

I assume that Silvia finally wants some peace and quiet now that she's finally moved into her room, but I know that's not necessarily the reason why she's so quiet and absent now.

That strange man at the sports center who suddenly disappeared...
Silvia said she didn't know him, but her behavior says otherwise. It's the same silence as in the shopping street when she found out about Euphemia. Something is bothering her and it's probably this man. But if she doesn't want to talk about it, that's okay. I don't want to upset her or disrupt our relationship in any way: We need to work together. As soon as the therapist joins us tomorrow, I'm sure we'll make more progress.

“Hmm... Tell me Silvia,”
I'm still interested in one thing.
“What exactly did you do in the last three months after you were found?”

I find that a bit strange: even after three whole months, it seems they haven't found a single clue to Silvia's identity or origins. Have they even looked into her case and who was involved?

Silvia lets out a loud yawn.
“Not much, to be honest.”
The silver-haired lady stares at the ceiling.

“I sat in a cell the whole time and occasionally talked to the therapist.”

“And you never got to go out?”

“Nope.”

“So you were in Containment Bay for the whole three months?”

“Well, until today anyway.”

“Sounds like a pretty brutal treatment for someone who only suffers from amnesia.”

“Yes, 'just' amnesia.”

Silvia lets herself fall back onto the bed. I had no intention of trivializing or minimizing her amnesia: I simply chose the wrong words. Normally, I would feel bad now too and be devastated for the rest of the day; some would call it an exaggeration, but that's just me. But today I'm actually too exhausted for that - but I should still apologize to her.

“I'm sorry, please. I didn't mean to.”
But I already realize that my apology is in vain.

Silvia has fallen asleep within a few seconds. I can't blame her: Today must have been really exhausting for her, especially when you factor in the mental strain.

She's lying there now, dozing off in her visibly uncomfortable everyday clothes. And once again I realize that Silvia makes a very carefree impression most of the time. Meanwhile, I always seem anxious and stressed; I can't even hide it well. I could really learn something from her...

At that moment, I wonder how long I'll be working on Silvia's case. Days? Weeks? Months? No one can really tell me, all I know is that I have a year at most before I have to give up my job. I can't afford to waste any time!

Lost in my thoughts, I stare out of the window. The hotel room is on the fifth floor and offers a view over the entire Sun District with its numerous pedestrian zones.

The lights of the lanterns make their way between the leaves of the planted roofs and façades. From this angle, the district looks like a dense forest with glowing undergrowth. It emanates a feeling of mysticism.

But apart from the scenery, I notice something else: The parking lot that runs directly below the window. In New Apollondon, the vast majority of the population use public transport and generally don't even own cars. That's why parking spaces are kept very small and are empty most of the time, but there is a car in the hotel parking lot and a person next to it.

Her shoulder-length blonde hair and long ears look familiar and when I take a closer look and recognize her belly-baring outfit, I realize who it is. Before I finish my work today, I will have to confront her.