CHAPTER 17 ANSWERS IN CHAOS

The toy

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As I regained consciousness, my eyes met a white ceiling, the scent of antiseptic hanging in the air. I winced as I touched the bandage wrapped around my head.

“How are you feeling?” Jessie suddenly appeared in my face. “I thought you were going to slip into another coma.” She laughed through her tears, pulling me into a hug.

It was the first time I had seen Jessie cry, not even when her fiancé called off the wedding or when her puppy died. I always teased her, saying she must have sold her soul to the devil.

“It’s not that easy to slip into a coma,” Logan remarked, entering the hospital room. “How are you feeling?” He gently held my hand.

“Other than the throbbing headache, I’m okay.” I smiled weakly.

Jessie took my hair in her hand. “Was it that bastard who did this to you?” she asked, her brows furrowed.

“Yes,” I admitted, averting my gaze as I brushed back my hair.

What could I say? That I had done this to myself? Damon had a way of bringing out the worst in me. If someone had told me I was capable of such rage, I wouldn't have believed them.

I giggled at the thought—like I really knew myself. But it made sense. I was always the chaotic child.

“Thank God Logan was nearby. Only heaven knows what might have happened otherwise,” Jessie said.

I turned to Logan. “Did you see anyone else there besides the man?” I asked.

“No, did he have an accomplice?” Logan adjusted himself in the chair.

“No,” I replied, my gaze shifting to my palms. I thought I had heard Damon’s voice. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me. As I lost consciousness, I believed I was going to die. It made sense that my last memory would be of Damon saving me.

A knock on the door caught my attention.

“Can I come in?” Zach leaned against the doorway.

“I hope Damon didn’t send you,” Jessie said, folding her arms.

“Not at all,” Zach said, taking a seat. “Today’s his fiancée's birthday; he’s occupied,” he continued.

Zach’s words confirmed that Damon wasn’t there, and it was all in my head. Logan was my savior.

“I’m here because Aria is my friend, and I care about her,” he added with a smile that couldn’t have been more fake.

Friend? Since when were we friends?

Zach turned to Logan and said, “I never knew you were such a good fighter. You knocked the guy out cold,” he said with a sly smile.

“I didn’t know you could fight,” I said, turning to Logan.

“It was all adrenaline,” Logan replied.

Zach scoffed. “Can you describe the man who attacked Aria?” His gaze fixed on Logan as he toyed with his cufflinks.

“Why don’t you ask the person who was attacked?” Logan furrowed his brow.

“She just woke up; she’s probably too traumatized to talk about it,” Zach said, another cunning smile creeping onto his face.

“Do you two know each other?” Jessie asked, sensing the tension between the two men.

“No,” they both answered in unison.

“The man was huge. He had an X-shaped scar on his face and was missing an eye,” I said.

“Do you have any idea who might want to hurt you?” Zach asked.

“When did you become a detective?” Jessie snapped. “If there’s anyone who’d want to hurt her, it’s Lucy, that crazy fiancée of his,” she added.

“Lucy might be a psychopath, but she’s not.” Zach began.

“How can you be sure?” I interrupted.

“Because she’s happy with Damon and doesn’t know where you live,” Zach replied.

I flinched at the mention of her happiness with Damon.

“Have you met anyone new or done anything unusual lately?” Zach asked.

My eyes widened. “I was in my hometown—Warwick,” I said. “I met a guy named Tony.”

“Does he have a last name?”

“Why all these questions?” Logan interjected. “She just woke up and needs time to rest.”

Zach ignored him. “You don’t know his last name?”

I shook my head. There was no way I would remember.

Zach stood up, reaching for his phone and snapping a picture.

“Damon must have put you up to this,” Jessie said, sizing him up.

Zach leaned in close. “Of course not, love.” He touched her chin. “It’s nice seeing you,” he added with his charming smile.

“I... I’m not your love,” Jessie stammered, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

As he left the room, Jessie settled into her chair. “Who does he think he is?”

I couldn’t help but giggle. The stone-hearted queen was blushing. My mind wandered back to the question: if it wasn’t Lucy, who could it be? I doubted it was Tony. Did he have any reason to want me dead? Forgetting about the bandage on my head, I smacked my forehead and winced. Everything about Damon always seemed to hurt, even his habits.

*****

Two days after being discharged from the hospital, I decided to stay with Jessie instead of going home. Adjusting to Jessie's minimalist black decor was challenging. Everything was black, from the walls to the bedsheets. The only bright spots were the early morning sunlight filtering in and a golden frame that highlighted the artwork on the wall. For someone who loves colors, her room felt quite depressing.

I studied my reflection in the mirror. I had cut my hair into a bob that ended just above my shoulders—Tony was right; I did love short hair.

I picked up my diary from my bag and lay down on the bed. Maybe I could finally find some answers.

"Your history book," Jessie said as she emerged from the bathroom, wearing a black robe and drying her hair with a black towel.

"Yeah," I replied, staring blankly at the diary, an unsettling feeling forming in my stomach.

The past I had been avoiding for the past year was now right in front of me.

"You don't have to read it," Jessie said, noticing my discomfort and touching my arm gently.

"What do you value most?" I asked her.

She looked puzzled for a moment before answering, "Freedom."

"I don't know what I value most. I don't have any goals," I said, sitting up and folding my legs under me.

Even though I've lost my memory, I can't shake the feeling that I never lived life on my own terms. I also don’t want my mother to wake up and find me the way I used to be—the chaotic Aria. I need to change, but how can I change when I don’t even know who I am?

With a deep breath, I opened the diary. "Who writes a diary without dates or years?"

"Let me see," Jessie said, taking the diary from me. "Well, it is your diary," she laughed, collapsing onto the bed.

Even my diary was chaotic. How was I supposed to figure out when these things happened?

“Lemme prepare breakfast,” Jessie said, before leaving the room.

I began to read:

‘I want to kill myself.’

I hadn’t even read far, and already, the words hit me hard. Was my childhood really that depressing? Even worse, I had no idea when this entry was written or if it was recent.

‘Today was the worst day of my life. Each day just seems to get worse for me. I was beaten up and locked in the basement—for something that wasn’t even my fault. Ariel and I were preparing for our college exams. Mom had locked us up so we could study for hours, and we did. Well, Ariel did, being the mummy-pleaser she was, always trying to be perfect. Meanwhile, I didn’t care what Mom wanted. I bought a cake and didn’t realize it had peanuts in it. Ariel ate it and had a serious allergic reaction. Everyone accused me of doing it on purpose to sabotage her exams.’

Rubbing my forehead, I sighed. “Mummy-pleaser” didn’t sound like the way I remembered caring for my Ariel in my dreams. A few lines weren’t enough to judge my past self, so I kept reading:

‘My stomach hurts. I’ve barely eaten a decent meal. I just came out of the cellar after two days. The only reason I’m not dead is that Ariel has been secretly sharing her food portions with me. My mom hates me, and I hate her too.’

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read on. My mother had treated me so poorly, beating me and locking me up whenever I failed a test. I was about to close the book, unable to continue, when a line caught my eye:

‘I made a new friend.’

Surprised, I read on. My aunt had always said I had no friends and that no one ever liked me. Curious about this friend, I continued:

‘He’s a neighbor, and he and his brother just moved to town. He has the most charming smile I’ve ever seen, with dark hair and mesmerizing green eyes—‘

My heart started racing as the description matched someone I knew well. I quickly turned to the next page.

Time seemed to freeze, my breath growing heavier as I read on:

‘His name is Logan.’

Jessie entered the room. “Logan is in the living room. He’s here to see you.”