Michael peered into Marcie's room and saw that she was talking to Ron. A wave of relief came over him. If anyone could get through to Marcie, it was Ron.
Marcie was laughing, which made Michael smile. Now, though he was worried. How was he going to be able to convince her that he was Michael-the one who cares deeply for her-and not "Michael the jerk"? He had to find a way to make her remember.

He wanted to enter the room so badly but he was unexpectedly overcome by nervousness. This is crazy...

He looked in the room again and was surprised to see that Marcie was standing on her crutches. His heart ached when he saw her crying. Ron was holding a mirror in front of her face, stroking her hair with his hand. "It's okay, Marcie." Ron was saying.

"What happened to me?" Marcie was asking. "I look terrible!"

"No, Marcie, No. Don't ever say that. You look beautiful." Ron said.

Marcie looked at Ron. "Where's Al? I want to see him. Please Ron. Find him for me!"

Ron sighed. He guided Marcie to her bed and gently sat her down. He sat down on the bed next to her.

"Marcie..." he seemed to be struggling to find the right words. "Marcie-Al's gone."

Marcie's eyes widened. "Gone? Well where is he? He's supposed to be here. He loves me!"

"Marcie..." Ron said again, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Al died."

"What?" Marcie practically yelled.

"No! That's impossible! He loves me! He'd never leave me!"

Ron paced the room. Michael could see the frustration in his face. "Marcie, listen to me, please! Al is gone and he's never coming back!" Michael watched as Marcie broke down, sobbing hysterically. Ron wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

"It's okay... It's okay..." He said the comforting words over and over as he stroked her hair. They sat holding each other, as he gently rocked her back and forth.

After a long while, they parted.

"I'm so sorry, honey." Ron said. Marcie smiled when Ron kissed her cheek.

Unable to take it anymore, Michael stood and walked out of the lobby into the elevators.


Later at the diner, Michael walked inside, glad to see that it was deserted. Only Carlotta was there, cleaning the counter tops until they glistened.

"Hey, Michael!" Carlotta said. "Can I get you anything?"

"Just coffee, but thanks, Carlotta." Michael said.

Michael took a seat in the corner booth. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed John's number. It rang once.

"McBain." he heard John say.

"Hey, John! It's Michael." he said, knowing his voice was breaking slightly. He rubbed his eyes, wiping away threatening tears.

"Michael! What's up?" John asked.

"Listen, did you get my message earlier?" Michael asked.

"Yeah, I did. I'm sorry I didn't call you back, Man. Bo finally convinced me to take the day off, so I'm spending it with Mom and Natalie. Did you want to join us? I know Mom would love to see you." John said.

"Actually I was over there yesterday, so I got to see Mom, but thanks for inviting me." Michael said.

"So, Michael, you wanted to talk?" John asked.

"Did you hear about Marcie?" Michael asked as Carlotta brought over his coffee.

"Yeah. Mom told me. That must have been terrible. Are you okay?" John asked.

"Well the doctors say it's only temporary memory loss, so I'm praying she'll remember something soon." Michael said.

"Do you think she could tell us anything about the attack?" John asked.

"I don't know. I don't think she remembers anything." Michael said. He paused for a moment. "Listen, actually I wanted to talk to you about something else. Could you meet me here in a few minutes? It might help your investigation."

"Sure thing. I'll be there as fast as I can." John said. "Bye."

"Bye, John." Michael said into the phone, knowing that John had hung up and was already on his way.