------Hi! A quick note before u read this: this entire chapter is in the doctor's POV. Don't be confused! THXS BYE------

I laid my eyes on the bruised, delicate body before my eyes. I'd never seen such major injuries. The girl was barely breathing when the rescue crew found her floating out of the crashed plane. They described that she was "floating in a mixture of seawater and her own blood". I closed my eyes at the thought. She had hit her head on the bathroom sink and then gotten scraped her and there when the airplane made impact with the water. She was the only one injured. The captain had lost control prior to the crash and instructed everyone to stay put until the impact. Then, he led all of them, one by one out of the plane. 

Surprisingly, the family of the girl had failed to notice their loss until a couple days after the crash. She had been travelling with her siblings. I remembered being immensely confused when the family had come to the hospital a couple days later, demanding her release immediately. I convinced them that she was in a critical condition and that she needed medical treatment day in and day out until she woke up. They ha reluctantly left with sharp orders to contact them immdiately after she woke up. They also left a curious favor, asking that it would be preferred not to go through the screening and appointments that would allow her to regain memory if she had lost it. I apologized, stating that it was against the law to do such a thing against the patient's consent. Nonetheless, i found the request highly irregular and suspect.

I examined her eyes, shining a light into her eyeballs. Suddenly, her eyes jerked and she woke from her sleep.

She confusedly looked around the room. Her eyes reflect confusion. I sighed with relief. At least she's not screaming.

I gave her a gentle look. We wheeled her out of the surgery room into a more comforting area. She seemed to be calmly taking everything in. 

"Hello, dear. How are you feeling?" I asked in a soothing voice.

In her dreams, she had often muttered in broken Korean, so it didn't surprise me when she answered me in fluent English.

"I-- I'm feeling okay, except for a little soreness. What happened?"

"You're in a hospital in Sacramento, California. You survived a plane crash."

A confused look came over her face.

"Plane? To where? From where? I don't understand." She looked up helplessly. I gave her a reassuring smile.

"Well, our information tells us that you are Katherine Ga In Park and that you were travelling from LA to Korea. Your two siblings were on the plane with you, but they were safe." 

"My two sibl... Excuse me, did you say two siblings?"

"Yes."

"I don't... I only remember one sibling. I don't.. I think.. I don't remember anything except that I lived in the States with my parents and brother."

"Don't worry. Temporary memory loss is natural. We'll guide you through the necessary steps to regain your memories. For now, just try to rest. We'll get you something to munch on soon." I smiled warmly and left the room. I could tell she needed some alone time. Once I left the room, I remembered the family's request. And then she said that she didn't have two siblings... Also, the family clearly lived in Korea, as stated on their permanent resident card. I thought on this fact for a moment. Then, I rushed to the front desk to where the secretary was making phone calls.

"I need you to not make the call to the parents of Katherine Park. Something's not right. Hand me her files. And her family record."

The bewildered secretary handed me the data, which the family provided when they had visited.

The the files contained the patient's past records and the family's records. Her mother was remarried to a man named Su--

"Doctor, we need you in room 419." My reading was cut off by a cry from a nurse.

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

I turned to the secretary. 

"I need these files for a few days. I'll give them back in a few days. There is something i need to confirm here."

"Doctor! We need you here TODAY."

I growled at his impatience and ran up the stairs to follow him. The yellow manila envelope seemed to carry the weight of the world under my clipboard. As I passed the girl's room, I couldn't help but feel sympathy for the girl, who was so clueless and so helpless, yet carry the burden of a plane crash and a strange family. Through the open cracks of her room, I could see her looking out the window, not touching her food. Her face was pained.