A
Pain was the first thing she noticed.
It lived in her shoulders, her arms, and deep along her ribs like a heavy bruise that had settled into her bones. Not sharp enough to make her scream, but strong enough that when she shifted even slightly it reminded her it was there. For a while she didn’t open her eyes. Her body felt wrong. Stiff. Like she had run a long distance or lifted something far too heavy the day before.
She tried to move her arm. The soreness flared immediately. A quiet sound escaped her throat before she could stop it. “…ow.” Her voice sounded dry and unfamiliar in the quiet room. That alone made her open her eyes. The ceiling above her was pale green. She stared at it, blinking slowly while her mind tried to catch up with what her eyes were seeing. The paint looked old in places, faint cracks spreading like thin veins across the surface. A fluorescent light hummed softly overhead. Not a fan. Just a light. Something about that felt wrong. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. Pain spread through her shoulders again, making her wince, but she forced herself to sit up anyway. The surface beneath her was a narrow bed with thin sheets tucked tightly around the mattress.
The room was small.
Plain.
A single metal bed against the wall. A chair in the corner. A narrow window with lavender curtains pulled halfway closed. She looked around slowly, her heart beginning to beat faster. “Okay…” she whispered. The word sounded uncertain. Her brain felt foggy, like waking up from a deep sleep that had gone on too long. Thoughts moved slowly. Pieces of memory tried to surface but slipped away before she could grab them.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. The floor was cold against her feet. That helped a little. The sensation grounded her enough that she took a steady breath and looked down at herself. She was wearing unfamiliar clothes. Loose gray fabric. Soft but heavy. Something like a hospital gown, except thicker.
Her hands moved carefully along her arms. Her skin felt sore in places. There were faint bruises along her wrists. She frowned at them. “How…?” The word faded before she finished it. She tried to remember. Nothing came. Not where she had been yesterday. Not what she had been doing. Not how she got here. A quiet knot of panic began tightening in her chest. She stood up too quickly. Pain shot through her ribs and she grabbed the edge of the bed to steady herself. “Okay… okay…” she murmured, breathing slowly. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.
Her eyes moved around the room again, searching for something familiar. Something that might explain why she was here. There was a small metal table beside the bed. A glass of water sat on it. She picked it up cautiously and took a sip. The water tasted normal. Cold. Real. That helped a little too.
Her gaze drifted to the door.
It was thick. Solid. Dark wood with a metal handle. Closed. She walked toward it slowly, her muscles protesting every step. When she reached it she hesitated. Then she tried the handle.
Locked.
The soft click echoed louder than it should have in the quiet room. Her stomach dropped. “No… no, no…” She tried again. Still locked. Her breathing grew a little faster. Her mind searched desperately for memories that refused to appear.
Who was she? Why was she here? The questions felt enormous and empty at the same time. She stepped back from the door slowly, rubbing her arms as if that might calm the rising panic.
That was when the door unlocked.
The sound was sharp and mechanical. She froze. The handle turned. The door opened. A woman stepped inside.
She wore a white coat over dark clothes. Her dark hair was tied back loosely, a few strands falling near her face. Her expression was calm, but her eyes were sharp, studying the room immediately before settling on the girl standing in the center of it.
They looked at each other for a moment. Neither spoke. The girl felt suddenly aware of how small the room was. “Good,” the woman said finally. Her voice was steady. Professional. "You’re awake.” The girl stared at her. “Where am I?” The question came out faster than she intended. The woman stepped further into the room and gently closed the door behind her. “You’re safe,” she said. Something about the way she said it made the girl uneasy.
“That doesn’t answer the question,” she replied. Her voice trembled slightly despite her effort to keep it calm. The woman studied her face carefully. “Do you remember anything?” The girl hesitated. She tried again to search her mind. Nothing. Just fog. She shook her head slowly. “No.” The woman seemed to expect that answer. Her gaze moved briefly to the girl’s wrists, noticing the bruises. “You fought,” the woman said quietly. The girl blinked.
“I… what?”
“You resisted when we brought you here.”
The words made her stomach twist.
“I don’t remember that.”
“I know.”
The woman walked to the chair in the corner and sat down calmly, folding her hands in her lap. For someone in a locked room with a frightened stranger, she looked remarkably comfortable. “What’s my name?” the girl asked suddenly.
The woman looked back at her. “You don’t remember?” “No.” That answer sounded wrong even to her own ears. How could someone forget their own name? The woman was quiet for a moment. Then she spoke gently. “Your name is Rosemary.” The girl repeated it slowly.
“Rosemary.”
The name felt strange in her mouth. Familiar, but distant. Like hearing a word from a dream you couldn’t fully remember. “Rosemary Kennedy,” the woman added.
Rosemary.
She held onto the name carefully, like something fragile that might disappear if she didn’t focus on it. Rosemary looked up again. “Why am I here?” The woman didn’t answer right away. Instead she watched Rosemary closely, like she was studying the way she breathed, the way she stood, the way confusion moved across her face.
Finally she said quietly, “Because something happened to you.” Rosemary’s chest tightened. “What kind of something?” The woman tilted her head slightly. “That’s what we’re going to figure out.” The room fell silent again.
Rosemary stood there in the middle of it, sore and confused and suddenly very aware that wherever she was… she had not come here willingly.
