click and then the door swung open and there he was, standing in his pajamas. The look on his face when he saw me was one of utter shock. It clearly took a while for him to register what was happening because he opened and closed his mouth a few times, like he was an actor in a silent movie. Finally, after what felt like forever, some sounds came out.
“Wh-why . . . what are you . . . uh, why . . . what are you doing here?” He moved his head in short, sharp, jerky movements as he stuttered. He looked agitated and nervous. God, this hadn’t been the reaction I’d hoped for. But really, if I thought about it, what had I expected? Smiles and open arms?
“I mean . . . it’s the middle of the night and, and . . . what are you doing here?” he asked loudly this time.
“I didn’t know where else to go . . .” I started.
“What do you mean, you didn’t know where to go? You’re supposed to be in the hospital. Why are you here? How did you get here?” He walked past me and looked up and down the street, which was now empty. “How do you even know where I live?”
Now I felt bad. My cheeks flushed and it felt like a cold rock fell into my stomach. Clearly this had been a very bad idea, judging by the way he was looking at me now. Arms folded, a scowl on his face. Was that fear? Was he afraid of me? Like I was a stalker. Maybe I was.
“I overheard you tell someone your address on the phone,” I quickly said, hoping to waylay his fears about me. It didn’t.
“You were spying on me?” He took a step back, edging his way into the house.
“I wasn’t spying on you, I swear. I was going to X-ray and saw you in the passage and you were speaking to someone on the phone. You said your address and then, tonight, when I left the hospital, it was the only address in the entire world I could think of. I don’t even know my own address.”
“What are you even doing out of the hospital? Did they discharge you? I’m sure they wouldn’t have, so soon. Especially if you still don’t have any memories.”
“They didn’t let me out of the hospital. I kind of escaped.” I closed my eyes for a while, not sure I wanted to see his expression. I opened one eye first, and then the other, Noah did not look pleased.
“You escaped?”
“Yes,” I said faintly.
“Without being discharged? Do you know how risky that is? You have a brain injury! You shouldn’t be out of bed, let alone the hospital. Do you know how much danger you’re putting yourself in?”
“My brain is fine. They found nothing physically wrong with it. I just can’t remember anything.”
“Oh!” He sounded surprised and then his eyes moved down to my hand. “You’re bleeding.”
I looked down. The blood was oozing out of the graze, running down my fingers and had started to drip onto the concrete floor below. “It’s from knocking on the door. I knocked for ages.”
“Why didn’t you ring the bell first?”
“I didn’t know it was there, and what a brilliant idea! Who would have thought to put a bell by a door?”
“Uh . . . it’s pretty standard.”
“Oh.”
He looked at me curiously now, like he wasn’t so convinced I didn’t have a brain injury.
“I’m struggling with my memory still. I remember some things, but other things, it’s like I’ve never seen them before, like a bell by the front door. And some of the things I do remember, I have no idea why I remember them.”
Noah raised his hands to his face, placed them on his cheeks and then shook his head. “That’s all the more reason you can’t be here. This is so, so . . . I don’t even know if there’s a word for this. You just can’t be here.”
My stomach tightened so much that I wanted to be sick. “Please, please!” I could hear the sheer, ugly desperation in my voice as I begged. “I had to get out of there. I hated it. And I didn’t know where to go. I don’t know who I am and where I belong and you—you—were the only person I could think of. I had to get out of that hospital. I felt like if I stayed there for a