CHAPTER SIX

Sherlyn's POV

(…a strange note)

She opened her eyes to a medium-sized living room and the terrified face of Charlotte, who left her side immediately she woke up . She sat up on the sofa chair where she laid, panting heavily and looking around to be sure she was where she should be. For some minutes she was thankful it was just a dream, but the thought of coming back to the discomfort from her pregnant state and her memory loss, made her wish the dream continued and maybe ended her life.

“Here. You'll feel better”, Charlotte handed her a white pill and a glass of water. 

She gulped down the pill, staring vaguely at the rugged floor and massaging her forehead. 

“Do you want to talk about it?“, Charlotte asked.

Sherlyn, still staring into space replied, “I want to assume it was just a dream, but it seemed too real”, her voice trembled. “It felt like it happened years ago but I couldn't remember anything about it, until now”. She looked up at Charlotte,

“Is there something about me you're not saying?

“Something like what?“

“Maybe, about my father, or anything at all?“

“I think you should rest your head. It is the usual hallucination that comes with pregnancy. I wouldn't hide anything important from you”, she wavered, avoiding Sherlyn's side glances.

“I'll be off to the grocery. Get something to eat and avoid overthinking for your own good ”. She was right. Everytime she tries to remember things, an excruciating pain develops around her head. This doesn't seem to bother Sherlyn as her major concern was the father of the child she was carrying , if ever she was married.

She got up after the door slam and snapped the door lock. She never believed Charlotte's story of her father dying in a car crash, and her husband eloping after hearing of the child in her womb. The dream couldn't have been pregnancy sickness. She felt a strong connection to the unknown faceless man in her dreams. She ransacked Charlotte's room for a prove of her suspicions but found nothing. In frustration, she kicked the last drawer that caused the fall of stacked boxes above it. In a bid to put them in place, a dark green portable diary dropped from the top of a carton box. She flipped it open randomly and saw an ID card. On it was written,

“Springland Hospital, New York.

Name: Charlotte Finch

Position: Midwife...”

She placed it back into the diary since none of the information was important to her. She received check up from the same hospital Charlotte worked. But a name on the contact list at the middle page rang a bell, 

“Mr. Wills”

She copied out the number, arranged the room like she never visited it and dialed the number.

No one picked. 

She gave up trying and was about having lunch when the telephone rang. 

“Alpha's residence. Who's on the line?“, an elderly feminine voice spoke. After some seconds silence, Sherlyn replied,

“Can I speak with Mr. Wills?“, biting her lips in anxiety—something about the name struck fear in her.

“He's currently not available, but I'll drop a note. Your name, ma'am?

“Sherlyn Blake”, she dropped the receiver immediately, folding her lips together. What if it was a wrong contact? But the thought of mothering a baby with no knowledge of the father tormented her daily existence.  

She drank a bowl of chicken lentil soup made by Charlotte. A familiar outfit caught her attention.

A tall man, dressed in black fitted suit and a dark shade, stood at the extreme end of the road, beside a luxurious car that could only belong to a very wealthy person. On the two occasions she had the prenatal appointment, the face had been hidden behind a hood or a baseball cap. He sped away each time he felt her focus turn to him while speaking into a mouthpiece that was fixed above his ear. She entered her room and peeped through the cotton drapes, where a better view of the streets could be seen. To her surprise, there was no one, except the car. She discarded the thought until a heavy knock fell on the main door, thrice. In fear, she slipped a bread knife on the counter, into the pockets of her loose maternity gown before unbarring the entrance.

“Hi. Are you Miss Blake?“, the gentleman spoke with a bouquet of scently flowers in his hands.

A closer look on the face pronounced his handsome features and the beautiful brown eyes that had been concealed behind shades all along.

Refusing to be distracted by his gentlemanly aura, she replied, “Does that explain why you've been following me around?“

“I apologize for that ma'am. But you might be mistaking a friendly admiration for privacy infringement. This is for you”, he streched out the flowers to her.

Sherlyn, still processing his intentions and gazing him from head to toe, hesitated before relieving his stretched out hands, 

“and this would be for?“, still looking lost. She knew no friends around.

“For the unborn child.“, he replied, staring mistly at her protruding belly. “A gift from my boss. Have a nice day, Miss Blake”, he concluded without waiting for her response as he ran towards the vehicle.

“Your boss doesn't have a name?!“, She shouted.

He gave no reply.

She watched him from a distance as the car suspended vapours as he drove away. She looked down at the flowers in her hands, wondering who the boss was. It was very beautiful with bright petals, but it made her nauseous. She quickly went in to find an empty jar. A small note dangled at the bottom of the stalk. 

“You can't run forever, Sherlyn.”

It was written in thick block letters. Behind the card was a symbol resembling an inverted Y and a continuous circle around its blunt edges.

It was a great idea to notify the cops, but she had no knowledge of the person, neither did she know the name of the supposed assistant. She'll definitely sound crazy.

“Do you feel better?“, Charlotte was back with two bags full of fruits and veggies.

“Nice flowers you got there. See you've started making friends”

“I don't think it's a friend, mum”, she replied, while handing over the note to Charlotte. 

With an alarmed expression, she asked, “what did he look like. Did he say anything mean?“

“No. I've no idea. He sent an assistant, I believe. Should we be worried? It's safe around here and i…”she let out a loud cry. Warm water trickled down her legs as she tried to gain support. It was nothing compared to the usual cramp she used to feel. She screamed again, this time, almost falling to the floor when Charlotte, who seemed to understand the situation, grabbed her by the waist and offered support.

“You need to be strong now, he'll be out soon” she spoke as they approached the blue car parked outside. Sherlyn sat at the passenger's seat. A discomforting heat consumed her, making her sweat profusely, panting and wishing for the pain to stop. It felt like the whole of her lower body was knotted into a tight twist. The journey to the hospital seemed longer than usual as she kept yelling amidst the pain,

“Take your legs off those breaks for once!“

“Don't exhaust the energy in you. Just keep breathing in deeply. We're almost there”, Charlotte replied calmly.

“I don't care! Just get this bastard out of me! ”, she sobbed, rubbing her hands all over her waist and regretting her words immediately. She hated her life. No memory of the father of the child, no memory of who or what she was. The car pulled over in front of a large building, that looked familiar. The very first place where she regained consciousness, after losing her memory, that turned out to be a place for her regular check ups.

In no time, she was placed on a stretcher and pulled by a number of nurses, including Charlotte. Amidst the severe pain, there were strange flashes of the symbol she saw earlier on the note and a bloody laughter only her could hear, judging by the unbothered look on their faces. Something within her struggled for a forceful escape. The last thing she recalled hearing after she felt a sudden heavy release from her womanhood, was a shrill cry from one of the nurses that made even her anguish go away.

“Unbelievable!“