But in one village, someone suggested visiting Mrs. Thompson. She lived by the river and had found all sorts of things in her long life. Her rickety house was indeed right by the water.
A kindly old woman opened the door. “What do you want, handsome?” she asked warmly. Hearing his unusual question, she raised her brows and invited him in.
“I had a find last year. Come in.” Ducking, James entered a small room with a low ceiling.
Mrs. Thompson sat at the table and waved toward the back. There, by the stove, sat Hannah. She looked up, surprised, and asked, “Who’s this, Grandma?”
“He’s here for you, dear,” Mrs. Thompson chuckled, noting James’s wide eyes. She explained that on the day Marina Coleman vanished, she spotted a drowned woman caught on a snag. Up close, she saw the girl was still breathing.
With effort, the elderly woman dragged her home. Thankfully, the girl was petite. Mrs. Thompson nursed her back to health, but the girl remembered nothing of her past life.
So she stayed, helping with chores. Stunned, James couldn’t believe the miracle. He sat closer to the woman who looked identical to his janitor.
“What’s your name?” “Hannah,” she answered without hesitation. James’s eyes widened again. “That’s what I called her,” Mrs. Thompson clarified.
James kept probing. “Hannah, what do you remember?” The question clearly troubled her. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “Just this house and Grandma.”
James scanned the room thoughtfully. It matched its owner—small, old, but clean and cozy. A freshly whitewashed stove with a sleeping bench, bright striped rugs on the floor, a sturdy wooden table by a small window.
A metal tea strainer on a chain caught his eye. “What if?” he thought. He’d been good at it before.
“You have clear post-traumatic amnesia,” he explained. “I’m a doctor and used to study hypnosis seriously. In this state, we might recover your memories. What do you say?”
Mrs. Thompson shrugged. “Go for it, doc. It’s no good for a young, pretty girl to be stuck here with an old lady for a year. Try your hypnosis.”
The girl agreed. James asked Mrs. Thompson, “I need to be alone with her.” Closing all windows and doors, he sat her in a chair in the center of the room. Swaying the shiny object before her eyes, he spoke in a low, soothing voice, as if tiptoeing into her mind.
“Relax and tune out all sounds. Listen only to my voice. You hear only my voice.
At the count of 10, you’ll fall fast asleep. After the countdown, on ‘one,’ you’ll wake and remember everything you forgot. One, two, three.”
Her body slumped, her pupils fixed lifelessly. Her breathing deepened and steadied. “Remember. Remember who you are, what happened.”
“Two, one.” She jolted awake.
For a few seconds, she processed, then clutched her head, rocking. “I remember everything. Yes, I remember. Edward, it was him.”
James sat before her, gently taking her hands. “Tell me, Hannah.”
“I’m Marina. Marina Coleman.” She grew up in a wealthy family. Her parents ran a successful cosmetics business.
Marina was never denied anything but was held to high standards. She excelled in school and became a cosmetologist. From childhood, she understood the value of money and how to manage it.
Noticing her entrepreneurial streak, her parents gifted her a beauty salon. Two years later, she had three, and a year after that, nine. By chance, or so it seemed, she met Edward.
The young man was attentive, charming, and relentless in wooing her. Flowers daily, cozy diners, river walks, even a hot-air balloon ride. Life became a fairy tale.
Marina couldn’t believe her luck. She accepted his marriage proposal without hesitation. Her parents gifted the couple a large suburban house and a hefty bank account for the wedding.
But the bliss faded quickly. Edward was a lazy opportunist. He lounged at home with a cocktail or went off “on business” in the city.
While Marina worked hard and grew their wealth, he indulged in idle pursuits. His “business” meant draining their joint account. When she questioned him, he deflected with jokes or changed the subject.
Then tragedy struck. Her parents, driving home one stormy night, died in a car crash.
Marina grieved alone. Edward offered no support. He seemed pleased, as he inherited her vast fortune—stores, warehouses, bank accounts, and more.
The veil lifted from Marina’s eyes. She saw who she’d married. When she pushed for divorce, Edward tried to revert to their early romance.
He didn’t want to lose his cash cow. But his sweet talk and fake smiles no longer worked. She stood firm.
Edward begged for one last chance, promising a romantic evening on a boat. Marina was cold to his efforts, immune after everything. She just wanted to get it over with and move on.
Indifferent to him, she admired the scenery. Dense thickets lined the river, weaving a natural fence. Willows reached toward the passing boat.
In the clear, greenish water, fish glinted silver. A sharp pain in the back of her head blacked out the scene. Cold and wet followed.
When she came to, a kind old woman’s face hovered above her. James called Tom and briefly shared his findings. Tom wasn’t surprised.
He’d seen it all in his career. “Both of you, come now,” he said.
Tom waited with a young lieutenant colonel, David Harris. “This is David. He’ll handle your case. Sit, tell us.”
David studied the disheveled Marina with curiosity. Her determined gaze and articulate speech impressed him. Her chestnut hair falling over her face captivated him.
With effort, he focused on the case. Edward was arrested that day. Marina returned home.
The two identical women stared at each other in awe. Mixed emotions swirled. Marina laughed, breaking the tension.
“Where were you when I was taking exams?” Hannah smiled at the joke. “Maybe you’re distant cousins?” James suggested, having introduced them. “Or a quirk of nature?”
Hannah proposed visiting their mother in the hospital. Maybe she’d know something. Linda lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The girls entered together.
“Mom!” Hannah called. Linda’s cloudy gaze shifted to them and froze. Her eyes cleared.
Tears streamed down her gaunt face. She covered it with frail hands, trembling, and let out a moan. “Mom! What’s wrong?” Hannah rushed to her.
“My girls! Marina! You’re found! Hannah! God, how I’ve wronged you!” Marina was stunned. How could this be true? Or was it delirium? She pitied the suffering woman. Leaning down, she took her hand.
Linda gripped it with surprising strength, kissing it. “Forgive me, my girl! I searched for you!” Calming slightly, she told the shocked girls her tragic story.