"W… el… come h… ome. H… ow w… as w… ork?" Aine asked as he came through the door.
"It was good." Ravi set his things down. "How did your therapy session go?"
"It… w… ent w… ell. Sh… e w… ill r… et… urn n… ext w… eek," Aine said.
"You have been in the house for a while now. Is there somewhere you would like to go?"
"I… d… on't kn… ow Fr… ance. Ev… en th… ough it… is b… eau… ti… ful," she replied.
Ravi reached into his jacket and produced a phone. He placed it in her hands. "You can search for places on here."
"Th… ank y… ou," she said.
She looked down at the phone. Then something shifted in her face. A flash of something. Brief and involuntary. The memory arrived before she could prepare for it. A voice. A hand placing a phone into her palm. Take this. You can call your family members now.
She went still.
"Are you doing well?" Ravi asked, watching her.
"Wh… ere… is m… y f… am… ily?" she asked quietly.
Ravi looked at her. "Your family?"
His phone rang.
"I have to take this," he said and stepped out of the room.
Aine sat alone with the phone in her hands.
"I… d… o h… ave a f… am… ily," she said softly to herself. "I j… ust r… em… em… bered. I h… ave a f… am… ily."
Later Ravi stood in the corridor with the phone pressed to his ear.
"You saved me today," he said.
"I did?" Hayland replied.
"Aine is getting some of her memories back. She asked me about her family."
A long pause settled between them on the line.
"What is so strange about that?" Hayland asked.
"She is not in good condition. If she finds out her mother is dead and her father has remarried she will feel really bad," Ravi said.
Later Ravi looked at her. "Have you found somewhere you want to go?"
"Y… es. I d… id. B… ut I w… ant to g… o al… one," Aine said.
"You are not fully well yet. Your speech is also a problem. And this is a French speaking country," Ravi insisted.
"D… on't w… orr… y. I h… ave a tr… ans… lat… or. I al… so h… ave a loc… at… ion app. Y… our cont… act j… ust in c… ase of an… y… thing," she said.
Ravi looked at her for a moment. "You can go. It is cold outside. Take your coat."
She left.
Walking alone through the Paris streets Aine moved slowly, taking everything in. Then a thought crept in and would not leave.
Why does he not want me to know about my family. Who is he exactly. I know he is my husband but why do I have no memory of any moments between us. The only thing I can recall is that he was always there. Could he be a kidnapper. Should I report to the police. But if he meant me harm he would not have let me walk out alone. I cannot do anything right now. I am not well. I cannot even speak properly.
She pushed the thought aside and kept walking.
Then a stranger stepped into her path.
"Eng… lish on… ly," she said immediately.
"You American?" he asked.
"Y… es," she replied.
"Do you need any help?"
"N… o th… ank y… ou," she said and kept moving.
"We are giving out free champagne. Would you like to join us?"
"N… o. N… o," she said firmly.
But more figures appeared, emerging from different angles, moving casually but deliberately, walking her slowly and steadily toward a dead end.
Aine stopped.
She looked ahead. Then behind her.
The street had run out.
One of them reached behind his back and produced a dagger, pressing it against her side.
"Give us the phone. The coat. The watch. The wallet," he said.
"Ar… e y… ou r… obb… ers? W… hy," Aine said.
"You look mad. You speak mad. You are clearly mentally ill." He moved closer. "Give us everything and we let you go. Peacefully."
"N… o. Y… ou c… ann… ot t… ake an… y… thing fr… om—"
Before she could finish they shoved her hard to the ground. The snow came up to meet her and she hit it with everything she had. They descended on her at once, hands pulling at her coat, her boots, her watch, her phone, tearing everything away with the efficiency of people who had done this before and felt nothing about it.
Then they were gone.
The street was empty.
Aine lay in the snow in nothing but her underclothes, the cold pressing into her skin from every direction. Her vision had gone blurry at the edges. The snow began to settle around her, slow and indifferent, covering her the way snow covers everything it finds still enough.
She raised her hand. Just one hand. Reaching for something that was not there.
The cold was everywhere now.
Then through the blur of her fading vision she saw something. A figure running toward her. White suit. Blonde hair. Moving fast.
Then everything went dark.
"Sir who did you bring this time?" the maid asked, appearing at the door.
"She is seriously injured. She has a bandage on her head and it is bleeding. I believe the wound has reopened," he said, carrying Aine inside.
"She is freezing," the maid said, pressing her hand to Aine's skin. "Let me turn the heater up immediately."
"I will call the doctor right away," he said.
The doctor arrived without delay and worked quickly and quietly while the others waited outside. When he emerged his expression was settled.
"She is doing well. I have stitched the wound and dressed it properly. Keep her warm until she wakes up. She will need rest."
"I will escort you out," the maid said, leading him toward the door.
The house settled into a quiet stillness around Aine, warm now, the heater filling the room with a steady gentle heat. She lay still beneath the covers, breathing softly, the fresh dressing white and neat against her head.
Outside the snow continued to fall over Paris, covering everything it touched.