19- I'm A What?
Liz stared at the lieutenant then at her two friends, who were rubbing the area where the needle had protruded their skin then at the staff behind her, who met her eyes squarely.

“How long have we been-”

“Eight years out there,” one of the guys…who knows which one is Silver and who is Mac, interrupted Randall’s question.

Liz scoffed and leaned over, in disbelief. She’d been chopping heads off for eight years?

“Yes, Ma’am- Liz,” the girl who had offered her the chair said, scratching her face. “Listen I know it can be a shock because you lost count on the outside. Relax it’s fine.”

The lost count of months wasn’t the issue- she had lost years.

“Yea Liz it’s fine, even I was thinking four, maybe five years,” Randall confessed as he patted her back to comfort her. “Eight is cool.”

Eight? It’s more like three for Liz. What…how? She knew she had a memory loss of some sort but five years missing?

The blood drained from her face. She tried to track back now- home, teenage pr
deathbyheartbreak

What dod you guys think?

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