Chapter 100

"A month has passed since you recovered from the coma," Liam's father told him one day in Liam's room. "Are you sure you still don't grasp anything?"

Liam had a frown on his face. Why was this old shaky father of his in his room? It was barely morning.

"What's that face for?" his father asked. "You can't say you don't recognize me, too. I raised you from day one. You can't—"

"I never said I don't recognize you," Liam said through gritted teeth. "Neither am I worried about recognizing anything. I can remember pretty well who I am."

Again, anger welled up inside him. The more these people told him that he had lost his memory, the more he believed it. And the more his belief grew, the more he was agonized, because he tried so hard to remember. This constant terror pushed him away from coming home. That was why he preferred to stay in the club all night, and returned only when he believed they were all asleep.

"Do you remember you had an accident?" his father asked for the umpteenth time