[Madison’s POV]
The incessant drone of corporate voices fades into background noise as I tap my pen against my notepad. This Teams meeting has dragged on twenty minutes too long already. Some tech startup desperately needs my consulting expertise, but all I can focus on is the framed photo I keep face-down in my desk drawer.
Charles. My beautiful little brother.
Six months. Six whole months since he chose her over me. Since he ran off and married that manipulative blonde bitch who doesn't deserve to breathe the same air as him, let alone share his last name.
Emily.
Even thinking her name makes my jaw clench.
I realize someone's asked me a question when the silence stretches awkwardly over the call.
"I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I was reviewing some data points," I lie smoothly, my professional smile sliding into place automatically.
"We were wondering if your analysis shows any potential for market expansion in Q4?"
"Absolutely," I respond, my business voice taking over while my mind remains fixed on Charles. "The metrics suggest a 12% growth opportunity if you pivot your strategy as I outlined earlier."
My life's been a slow-motion collapse since it happened. Not that anyone at work would notice. Madison Brooks, consummate professional, always put-together, always one step ahead. If they only knew how I cry myself to sleep clutching his old t-shirt I stole from him.
He only married her to escape me. The realization still burns like acid in my veins. Because god forbid a sister loves her brother "too much." As if there's such a thing as loving someone too much. Now Charles won’t even answer my calls.
I end the call with practiced pleasantries and promises to send my report by end of day. The instant the screen goes dark, I drop my pen and open the drawer, flipping the photo face-up.
Charles at his college graduation. Me standing beside him, my arm wrapped possessively around his waist, his smile slightly strained. I trace his face with my fingertip.
My phone rings, startling me out of my reverie. I check the screen, unknown number. Strange. Almost no one has this private line.
I hesitate before answering. "Hello?"
"Hello, is Madison Brooks available?" A man's voice.
"Speaking." I straighten in my chair, professional instincts kicking in.
"Ms. Brooks, this is Dr. Patel from Mercy General Hospital. I'm your brother's physician."
My heart skips a beat at the mention of Charles. I grip the phone tighter.
"I apologize for the intrusion, but we've had some issues with our filing system. We seem to have misplaced your brother's wife's contact information. I noticed your name was still listed as emergency contact."
I remain silent, processing this unexpected development.
"We just wanted to check in on Charles's progress following his discharge two weeks ago. Particularly regarding his retrograde amnesia condition."
"His what?" I breathe, my voice barely audible.
"The memory loss," Dr. Patel clarifies. "When he was discharged, he couldn't recall anything about his personal history. It's not uncommon with head trauma cases like his. We're conducting follow-up assessments on similar patients."
My entire body tingles with a sudden electric thrill. Charles doesn't remember. He doesn't remember her. He doesn't remember running away from me.
I close my eyes, composing myself before responding. A plan crystallizes in my mind with beautiful clarity.
"Of course, Dr. Patel," I say, injecting just the right amount of sisterly concern into my voice. "Emily has been keeping Charles quite busy with his recovery. I'm sure that's why she hasn't reached out." I let my smile seep into my words, knowing he can't see the predatory gleam in my eyes. "I'll follow up with both of them personally and make sure they call you if anything concerning develops."
"Thank you, Ms. Brooks. That would be most helpful," Dr. Patel responds, relief evident in his tone. "We just want to ensure your brother's recovery is progressing as expected."
"Absolutely. Family is everything to me." The truth slips out before I can stop it. "I'll make sure he gets the care he needs."
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, I hang up and sit perfectly still, savoring the moment. The universe has handed me a gift wrapped in bandages and amnesia.
I start tapping my pen against the desk again, faster this time, the rhythm matching my racing thoughts. The possibilities unfold before me like a beautiful, twisted origami.
"It's like starting from zero," I whisper to my empty office, testing the words. "A clean slate."
My lips curl into a smile that would make my colleagues back away slowly if any were present to witness it. The tapping intensifies.
"Emily probably still has him wrapped around her little finger," I mutter, digging the pen into the notepad until the paper tears. "Another way to ruin my life. To keep him from me."
I lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as a delicious thought forms. My pen taps harder, faster, until it slips from my fingers and clatters across the desk.
"But if he doesn't remember me..." I say to the empty room, my voice taking on a sing-song quality, "Then technically, I'm not his sister anymore, am I?"
A laugh bubbles up from deep inside me, starting as a giggle and building to something that would concern my neighbors if my office walls weren't soundproofed. The perfect loophole.
"No shared history. No taboos. No boundaries." I pick up Charles's photo, pressing it against my heart. "Just two strangers meeting for the first time."
My mind races with possibilities. I could be anyone to him now.
Friend.
Savior.
Lover.