“Let’s get out of here,” she said decisively.
I nodded. “Let’s.”
26
KATARINA
Lucy was a student in her final year at a prestigious culinary school in Florence. We went back to her hotel by taxi and soon were locked safely inside. She was in Torino for a few days to take an exam.
“I can’t believe this snow,” Lucy said, gazing out the window. “We never get this down South.”
She’d just ordered a whole lot of food from room service, and we were waiting for it to be delivered. Nina, her bodyguard, was outside the door. I wasn’t sure how to ask her why she needed one.
She’d very patiently reminded me of her name, the bodyguard’s, and why she was in the city three times already. My short-term memory didn’t seem capable of holding more than half an hour of time. It was horrifying. I’d never been more confused.
“I have someone I could ask about your missing soldier,” she said, coming to sit on the sofa. This wasn’t just a hotel room, it was a suite. Lucy wasn’t a poor student, that was clear.
“Who?” I stared at her, confused.
Until she nodded toward the dog tags around my neck hanging out of the cozy white knit sweater dress she’d let me borrow.
“Oh, him.” I picked up the metal disks and stared at the name etched into the surface.
“Who could you ask?” I wondered.
“Someone who’s like a sister-in-law to me. She’s actually pretty impressive with tech. I bet she could find him.”
“I don’t even remember getting these, that’s the problem, or when or where I got them.”
I held the dog tags in my palm. They felt oddly precious to me.
“Are they from a family member? Or a boyfriend? As far as I know, they’re sentimental things to part with.”
I shrugged. Under the dog tags was a small crucifix, the only thing I recognized.
“This is mine.” I held up the cross. “But the rest, I don’t know.”
“Is this memory loss thing new, or... what do you remember?”
I took a deep breath and thought about it. “I’ve been in the hospital, I think. I don’t know where. I’ve been staying there for a long time, I think. My mom is waiting for me to get out. There was a fire... I don’t know what happened.”
“If you’ve been staying in the hospital, how come you ended up running into thestazione centralein the middle of a snowstorm?”
I shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
“What’s your whole name? You want my friend to look you up, too?”
That I knew. Just like I knew my mother, I knew my name. The rest of my life remained shrouded in fog.
“It’s Katarina Dmitrova.”
A knock sounded at the door, signaling room service had arrived.
Lucy stood and crossed to the door, peering out quickly before she opened it wider.
The waiter wheeled the food in and then left. Smells of pasta with tomatoes and basil hit the air, and I groaned.
“Come on, let’s eat, and tell me more about what you remember,” Lucy offered, sitting at one side of the table.