AALIYA WATCHES ME FROM under hooded lashes. Every time our eyes lock, she waits a second before her gaze shifts away from me. Gabriel’s friend is sassy and bold, and I like this spunk in a woman. I still can’t get over the way her eyes flashed fire at me when I told her off about my situation. My anger wasn’t pointed at her specifically but dealing first with Celia and the press and then with that threatening note has been distressing. The note indicates that whoever is after me is simply biding time before their next strike. Solving this mystery now takes priority over everything else. I have to find out who is trying to kill me and why.

When Aaliya entered the restaurant, my boiling rage over my situation had just about settled to a simmer. And when she asked me that question about the news article, I erroneously assumed that she was prying and I lashed out. But she was gracious enough to let the altercation go and has been nothing but warm and polite since then.

Gabe and Aaliya interact easily with one another. They seem to share a history, one I know nothing of or don’t remember of. I intend to ask him about it at the earliest opportunity. I need to know how interested Gabe is in her because she intrigues me and I haven’t been interested in a woman for a long time now.

Our dinner arrives and we dig into it.

Gabe and she launch into an exciting discussion on Hindu mythology. What is even more surprising is that I can contribute to it.

Aaliya laughs at something Gabe says. The sound is delicious and sexy. My body stirs to life, shocking me.

“Yeah, we Indians love our mythology,” she exclaims, turning to me. “Every few years we have a new television serial on the Ramayana or the Mahabharata and everyone is glued to it, even though most of us know the story and have watched the previously televised version as well. Yet, the serials are a super hit.”

A memory flashes through my mind of a bare-chested man holding a bow and arrow. So I ask her about it. “There’s a deity the Hindu’s believe in, he carries a bow and arrow, am I right?”

Her face lights up. “That is the God Rama. I’m impressed, Damien.”

I smile at her. I’m so thrilled I’ve remembered something I wasn’t even aware I knew.  How do I know it? Was I reading on Indian mythology before my accident? Have I had this discussion with someone else earlier? It’s all a big blank. But being with Aaliya has opened my mind to things and, for the first time in days, a tiny spark of hope blooms inside me. Perhaps, this is a sign of my memory returning. I surely hope that is the case.