Dr. Adler ushered us past a little reception area with half a dozen orange plastic chairs, and into the first consultation room on the left. Its walls were slate gray, and he’d adorned them with pictures and self-portraits of what I assumed were his younger patients. They had toothy grins, bandaged arms, stitches in their knees and speech bubbles with words of thanks written inside. He gestured for us to take a seat, before following suit, and placing his hands in his lap.

“You mentioned memory trouble on the phone,” he said. “Shall we start from the beginning, so to speak? Tell me what you remember.”

With Maya’s help, I explained most of what had happened, including the various flashbacks I’d experienced so far, but staying sufficiently vague about the location I’d woken up in, as Dr. Adler made notes.

“And the first time you realized you couldn’t remember anything about yourself was when you woke up somewhere on a beach yesterday morning?” he said.

“God, I can’t believe it was only yesterday, it feels like years,” I said. “And I can’t explain it. I know there’s stuff inside my head, but I can’t access it. It’s as if there’s a roadblock, or a big gaping hole. Does...does that make any sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Dr. Adler said.

“If it’s amnesia I’d say it’s retrograde, not anterograde—” Maya shrugged when I raised my eyebrows in surprise “—because he’s perfectly capable of forming new memories.”

“Somebody’s been doing research,” Dr. Adler said with a smile. “But it’s a little early to jump to conclusions. Your memory loss could be related to many things, Ash, such as an injury, or disease.”

“Disease?” I said. “You think I’m ill?”

“Not necessarily. You mentioned a head wound. May I?” When I nodded, he pulled on a pair of latex gloves and gently touched my scalp, tilting my head to one side. “This had to be quite the blow. You could’ve done with a few stitches.”

“To be honest, it didn’t feel like a priority.”

Dr. Adler smiled. “Understandable. Do you know how it happened?” When I shook my head, he added, “Head injuries can trigger memory loss. Maybe this has brought us a step closer to figuring out what’s going on.” He made sure the cut was clean and continued to examine me, listening to my heart and lungs, checking my reflexes, shining a light in my eyes, and evaluating my balance before taking my blood pressure. “It’s a little on the high side,” he said, making another note. “However, that’s also understandable.”

“Can you help him?” Maya said.