Chapter Three

Third-person Pov 

  Amelia rolled her eyes constantly as the doctor spoke, hating how he was making her feel like she was crazy. No matter how many times she repeated that her name was not Emma and that this wasn't her body, both the doctor and Liane kept staring at her like she had lost her mind.

 They didn't believe anything she was saying, and the doctor had basically concluded that she was confused as a result of being in a coma for so long. He then told Liane to give her some time to come back to her senses. 

 "How long is it going to take until she remembers that she's Emma and not this Amelia she keeps claiming she is?" Liane asked. 

 "I can't say for sure, Miss. It could take a few days, months, or even years until she recovers and goes back to her old self. Seeing how she was able to wake up despite being brain dead for such a long time, I believe we'd need to run a few more tests on her and keep her under close observation to determine her current condition," the doctor responded. 

Amelia scoffed. She couldn't believe it. 

 How was she supposed to explain that she was a 39-year-old woman named Amelia Brooks? Even she still couldn't believe what was happening right now, and there was no logical way for her to explain herself to anyone. 

 So instead of arguing any further, she decided to just keep her mouth shut and wait for the doctor to leave. Her current body still felt very weak, so her plan was to recover first before trying to find out what had happened to her old body as well as how she got into this body. 

"Alright, doctor, thank you very much for everything," Liane said, escorting the doctor out of the room before walking back to Emma's side. 

"How are you feeling now, Emma?" she asked.

 "Do you expect me to feel any different than I felt a few minutes ago?" Amelia retorted, her words coming out harsher than she intended, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

 Liane sighed, trying her best to remain calm before responding. "Listen, Emma, I know you're very confused right now, and it's very understandable that you're confused since you've been in this state for over three years. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been for you all this time, but I want you to know that it'll get better. You'll get better."

"What day is it today?" Amelia asked, uninterested in Liane's speech. 

"It's Wednesday," Liane answered, and Amelia was even more confused. 

"What date?" she asked again. 

"September 3rd," Liane answered, causing Amelia's breath to catch in her throat. 

 How was it possible that today was September 3rd, when she had caught Samuel and Sophie together on March 4th, which was only yesterday in her memories?

  If Liane was correct, which she clearly was, it would mean that her real self, Amelia, had already been dead for about six months and was only just waking up in a different body after all this while. But why? Why was she suddenly alive in another body six months after she was killed?

 "Can I borrow your phone?" she asked, intending to search herself online to check what the public had been told was her cause of death.

 "Yeah, sure. But what do you need it for?" Liane asked. 

"Are you giving it to me or not, Liane?" she responded impatiently, and Liane quickly handed Emma her phone after unlocking it. 

 As soon as Amelia took the phone from her, she searched her name online, but to her horror, nothing came up. She searched a few more times, even going as far as using her real last name, Amelia Davies, but there was nothing. 

 Since Samuel was an influential man and she had a successful career as an architect, her name had always come up online whenever she searched it, so she couldn't understand why there was suddenly nothing about her. 

 At the very least, she should be seeing articles about her death and possible causes, but there was nothing—absolutely nothing. It was almost like she didn't even exist. 

 She decided to search for Samuel's name instead, and as she expected, his name did pop up—Samuel Brooks, chairman of the multimillion-dollar textile company Muelle. 

 What she found rather shocking was how her name wasn't where it used to be, as his wife. She kept scrolling to see if there would be anything that referred to her at all, but there was absolutely nothing. Not her name, or anything that indicated that she had ever existed in his life. 

 Instead, what she saw were several articles that talked about Sophie and Samuel, and from the headlines, it was hinted that they weren't father and daughter. 

She was about to open the article and read through it when, all of a sudden, Liane would tap her shoulders lightly, distracting her. 

"What are you so focused on, Emma? Please don't tell me you're actually looking up the accident that happened because you don't remember." Liane mentioned with a concerned look on her face. 

 She could tell from the look on Emma's face that she was all over the place, and she wondered if she had done the right thing by handing her a phone so soon. 

"Mind your business, Liane. I'm fine," Amelia responded nonchalantly, wishing she could be left alone to think.

 Liane immediately kept silent, not wanting to aggravate her cousin anymore than she was. 

 Amelia opened the article, hoping that it would expose how Samuel and Sophie had deceived herself and the entire world into thinking they were father and daughter. But to her horror, she was reading something entirely different from what she expected. 

 According to the article, Samuel was the one who publicly announced that he was no longer going to legally be Sophie's father, and his explanation had been that Sophie's mother had lied to him about Sophie being his daughter and that they weren't blood related at all. 

Apparently, there had been rumors concerning his relationship with Sophie, and when Samuel addressed the rumors, he admitted that Sophie wasn't his daughter and that her mother had lied to him in order to financially exploit him. 

Amelia couldn't believe what she was reading, and it pissed her off not just because he had lied about being lied to, but mostly because there was no mention of their affair in any of the other articles that she read through. 

There was no mention of her name as well, and from the look of things, Samuel and Sophie had dissolved their father-daughter relationship, but they were still seen in public together and insinuated to still be on good terms.

Amelia's stomach churned. She was repulsed beyond words, and if she wasn't subconsciously aware that the phone didn't belong to her, she would have thrown it across the room in a fit of rage. 

  All of a sudden, the phone started to ring, and the name, Alexander Pierce, popped up on the screen. She reluctantly handed the phone back to Liane, who took it from her, and gasped slightly on seeing the name on the screen. 

 "I'll be right back," she told Emma before rushing out of the room to pick up the call. 

Amelia was thankful for the temporary privacy, using the chance to shut her eyes and growl as much as she wanted to. She kept growling and growling in frustration, taking the pillow from behind her and punching it with all her might. 

 She had hoped that it would help her soothe her anger, even if just a little, but it didn't. She was still furious. Outraged, livid, infuriated, raving mad, fuming. She felt so much anger and resentment, and she wanted nothing more than to pour out her rage on someone—preferably Samuel Brooks. 

 "I see you still have your nasty temper even after all these years, sleeping beauty," an unfamiliar but undoubtedly masculine voice spoke, causing Amelia's eyes to look in the direction of the door where the voice came from. 

 Standing at the door with an unmistakable air of arrogance, power, and confidence that all the money in the world couldn't buy was a man who was tall, dark, and breathtakingly good-looking. She had met her fair share of hunks in her thirty-nine years of being alive, but this man, the one in front of her, was godlike. 

He looked like he had more money and power than he would know what to do with, and Amelia was fascinated as well as curious. 

"Who are you?" she asked softly, her eyes not leaving his. 

 "Ouch, Emma. I didn't think you'd forget me so easily," he responded, holding his hand to his chest and feigning a hurt expression. 

"Are you going to answer or not?" Amelia retorted, feeling rather impatient. 

Instead of responding immediately, he stepped away from the door, walking towards her until he was finally by her bedside. 

 "I'm Alexander, sweetie. Alexander Pierce, your husband. Don't you remember me, darling?" he responded, and Amelia was stunned into silence.