The hospital lights flickered to life as a petite nurse checked your machines and dressed your injuries with clean bandages. She was called out by the doctor, who then approached your IV stand and injected a strange red liquid into the tube before disposing of the syringe in a recycling bin. What you don't realize is that this "treatment" contains an experimental drug designed to erase memories - and your doctor just administered an extra-strong dose.

The car accident already wiped out seven years of your memory, but this drug would eliminate three more critical years. Mary had paid the doctor handsomely for this service. She was the one police were chasing the night of your accident - caught breaking into a medical lab to steal exactly this memory-erasing drug. In her desperate attempt to escape, she crashed her Mercedes into your car, sending you flying into the hospital wall.

Now she'd bribed everyone involved to keep quiet. As she practiced her lines outside your door, she prepared to convince you of a reality that never existed. When the doctor finally called her in, she pasted on a perfect smile and entered the room. Walking to your bed, she met your confused gaze with what seemed like genuine affection. "Hello my love," she said, her voice warm and familiar. "It's me, your loving wife Mary. I'm here to take you home."