I’m told they don’t know how old I am, where I came from, or if I even have a home. All the doctors know is that I was hit by a car three weeks ago, lost my memory, and no one has tried to claim me since.
Not one person in the whole damn world knows who I am.
The social worker, Lillian, wants to put me in a shelter since I’m homeless. And nameless.
I prefer to be on the street than in a shelter.
Somehow, Lillian convinces me to live at her place. With her brother.
Billy isn’t nice.
Billy has been told to protect me.
He’s given Lillian six weeks to get me out of there. But I refuse to be at his mercy, and I will do everything I can to discover my identity before my time is up… or die trying.
Until I find out who I am, he can call me Lucy.