I started with the newspapers, leafing through old issues in the café’s storeroom, where we kept forgotten magazines for customers. My fingers ran over the yellowed pages, my eyes scanning the headlines.
Nothing. No accident reports, no missing person notices, not even a mention of an unknown woman.
I switched to my phone, scrolling through forums and local news archives. Still nothing. It didn’t make sense. People don’t just disappear.
Disappointment gnawed at me. I groaned and leaned my forehead against the counter.
Think, Emma. Think.
And then it hit me. Hospitals.
If something had happened to her that night — if she had fallen, if she was in pain — she would have been taken to hospital.
I grabbed my phone and called Sarah, my friend who worked as a nurse.
‘Emma, it’s one o’clock in the morning,’ she groaned.
‘Sarah, I need a favour. A big one.’
There was a pause. ‘Oh, that sounds illegal. Go on.’
‘I need you to check the hospital records of a woman named Susan Wilson. She disappeared a year ago, and I think she may have been hospitalised.’
Sarah groaned. ‘You do realise hospitals have rules? I like my job.’
‘I’ll buy you coffee every morning for two months.’
‘And a muffin.’
‘Fine.’
Half an hour later, I met her outside the hospital.
‘This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever gotten me into,’ she muttered as we slipped into the chart room, where the dim light from her torch reflected off the metal shelves.
‘Not stupider than stealing a cat,’ I whispered back, flipping through the files.
Minutes passed. The room smelled of old paper and antiseptic. Sarah muttered something about losing her medical licence, but I could hardly hear her.
And then I saw it. The file. Susan. I opened it, my heart pounding.
‘Admitted on the night of her disappearance. Unidentified. Severe head trauma. Concussion. Partial paralysis. Memory loss.’
Sarah peered over my shoulder. ‘Well, that explains why she didn’t come back.’
But something was wrong. The surname. It wasn’t Wilson. I turned the page and froze. A phone number. Under ‘Emergency Contact.’
‘It must be her daughter,’ I whispered as I dialled the number.
Sarah crossed her arms. ‘Yes, because nothing says suspicious like a call from a stranger at two in the morning.’
I ignored her. The phone rang. Once. Twice.
A tired voice answered.
‘Hello?’
“Hi, I’m… sorry to call so late. My name is Emma. I’m looking for Susan Wilson. Actually, she’s my friend. A year ago, she didn’t show up for a meeting with him. I found a hospital card…”
Silence. A long, heavy silence. Then a deep sigh.
‘She’s my mother,’ the woman confessed. ‘But… I don’t know if she’s the woman you’re looking for anymore.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That night, she lost everything,’ she said. ‘Her memory. Her past. Even me, for a while.’ Her voice trembled, as if she had carried this pain inside her for too long. ‘But there’s one thing she can’t let go of. A place. A name.’
I closed my eyes, struggling to breathe.
‘Tom.’
A shaky breath. ‘Yes.’
It was her. I gripped the phone tighter.
‘He was waiting for her.’
‘He never stopped, did he?’
‘No. He was searching. Last night, on his birthday, he went to a café, ordered dinner for two and waited.’
A deep sigh.
‘She wouldn’t want him to wait forever.’
‘Then bring her,’ I advised. ‘Maybe being there will help. Monday. The café by the fountain. At noon.’
‘It’s a deal. I don’t know if she’ll remember him. But… she deserves to see the man who never stopped waiting.’
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. It was three o’clock in the morning. Monday had already arrived.
Tom arrived at the café on Monday, as promised. His suit was ironed, his shoes polished, and his eyes showed a hope that had learned to endure disappointment.
‘She’s here,’ I said quietly, nodding towards the window.
Susan sat in her wheelchair, her hands folded in her lap. At first, she didn’t seem to notice us, lost in thought.
‘Susan,’ Tom murmured.
Her eyes darted to him, studying his face. A pause… Then she smiled. Tom caught his breath. He knelt before her, his fingers trembling as he took her hands in his.
‘Tom,’ she sighed. ‘I love you.’
Tears streamed down her cheeks. Tom exhaled heavily, pressing himself against her face as if afraid she would disappear again. ‘Susan… all this time I thought…’
‘I never forgot you.’
‘But… your daughter, the hospital records… they said…’
Susan let out a small, broken laugh. ‘I know. I made them believe I had lost my memory.’
Tom’s eyes widened. ‘Why?’
‘Because I didn’t want you to see me like this,’ she whispered, pointing to the wheelchair.
Tom shook his head, his hands clasping hers tightly.
‘Susan… my love, listen to me. I don’t care about the chair. I don’t care about anything except that you’re here. That you’re still you.’
A sob escaped her lips, and she squeezed his hands. Tom reached into his pocket. Slowly pulling out a velvet box, he opened it and took out a ring that had been waiting as long as he had.
‘Marry me, Susan. Let me take care of you, love you, and be with you for the rest of our lives. I lost you once… I won’t lose you again, not a minute before God intended.’
‘Oh, Tom. Yes…’
Behind them, her daughter let out a stunned gasp, covering her mouth with both hands. She saw how her mother had changed. Her eyes were shining with love.
Tom exhaled, blinking rapidly. He got to his feet, moved behind her, and gently took hold of the handles of her wheelchair. Together, they went to buy her favourite lilies.