AmococaOnze

The hotel hallway. Empty. Then a figure walked past the camera. Face blurred. But the walk was familiar. Tom's walk. The video ended. Another text. "Nice room. The bed looks comfortable. Save me a spot." I grabbed Claire. We left through the stairwell. Didn't use the elevator. Didn't go past the front desk. We drove to the police station. I have a friend there. Detective Mears. Old partner. I told him everything. The texts. The photos. The video. The forgetting. He listened. Didn't interrupt. When I finished, he pulled up Tom's file. "Thomas Greene. Died three years ago. Cause of death: seizure. Body was cremated. Family took the ashes." He looked at me. "The widow's name?" "Claire Greene. My sister." He shook his head. "The widow's name on file is Margaret Greene. Different woman. Different address. No record of a Claire." I looked at Claire. She was sitting in the waiting area. Staring at the wall. "Claire. When did you and Tom get married?" She turned. Her face was blank. "I don't know." "What do you mean you don't know?" "I mean I don't know. I remember a wedding. I remember a dress. I don't remember the date. I don't remember the year. I don't even remember the city." She looked at her hands. "I don't remember anything before last year." Detective Mears pulled me aside. "Your sister isn't in any system. No ID. No driver's license. No social security number. No medical records. No school records. Nothing." "That's impossible. She's been alive for thirty years." "According to what? Your memory?" I stared at him. "I grew up with her. We shared a room. We fought over clothes. She dated my ex-boyfriend. I have photos. I have videos. I have Christmas morning on VHS." He nodded slowly. "I'm not saying you're lying. I'm saying someone erased her. Or she was never there to begin with." "What does that mean?" He looked at Claire. Still staring at the wall. "What if the thing wearing Tom isn't new? What if it's been here a long time? What if it's been wearing different faces? Different bodies? What if Claire was never Claire?" "That's not possible." "Neither is a dead man sending photos from inside your hotel room."