"Can you tell us what happened on the night of January 17?" Detective Roberts clicked his pen repeatedly waiting for a response from the woman in front of him.
She let out an exasperated sigh. "Again? Look… the same thing I told the guy who was here before you. And the guy before that and the woman before that. I got off work about two in the morning. I remember unlocking my car and nothing else. I woke up naked in the morgue. I don't how I got there. I have no idea what happened. I don't understand why you think I'm lying to you. Was a crime committed that you think I'm guilty of?"
"What have you been told?"
She threw herself back in her seat looking up to the ceiling. "Nothing. Every time a new one of you comes in here, I get asked the same old stupid question. And when I answer it, y'all just get up and leave and another person comes in. Feel free to continue with the routine. There's the door. It's not like I have classes to attend or anything."
"Do you know what day it is today?"
"I overheard someone say it was Monday. So, I guess I was out for the weekend then?"
"It is. Today is Monday, January 27th." He paused for her reaction.
"W-what?" she stammered barely above a whisper. Her eyes darted back and forth trying to connect invisible dots. That didn't make any sense. Ten days? She lost ten days? How?
He slid a file folder across the table. "Have a look," he said as opened the file to show her the pictures of the crime scene. Her hand flew to her mouth in disbelief. "You see, Miss Fisher. You were murdered in the early morning hours of January 18th following the end of your shift. Your body was found just like this," he pointed the photo of her in her car. "Cause of death was determined to be exsanguination. As you can see in this photo, you suffered a fatal injury to the throat which severed your jugular vein." His eyes met her frightened gaze. "A note… this note," he flipped to the picture, "was stuffed in the clean side of your bra. Do you know a woman by this name?"
She shook her violently. Her fingers ran over her skin where the wound was pictured but she could feel nothing. "I…I… Is this some kind of sick joke?! How do you have pictures like this?" she demanded. "This is twisted beyond reason. I want to leave. Right now. I haven't done anything wrong for you to keep me here!"
He hurried to block her access to the door. "Calm down, Miss Fisher. We're just trying figure out what happened is all."
"Calm down?! Calm Down? How the f*ck am I supposed to calm down?"
"Miss Fisher, please."
"NO! Let me go home!" She tried to reach behind him for the door handle.
He grabbed her wrist to gain her attention. "Can I show you one more thing before you leave?" he pleaded. "I promise to let you go after."
"What?"
"The surveillance video from the morgue, the day you woke up."
"Fine. I don't think it'll help, but fine. Show me."
He took her a conference room so he could display the video on the large TV screen. He watched her reaction as she watched the two women come into the morgue and the short conversation she seemed to have shared with them before they left. He was hoping for a sign of recognition but saw nothing, but shock and confusion written on the girl's face. "I take it you don't know these women?" he queried.
Amy sat slack jawed at the contents of the video. She was dead. She saw the wound on her neck, the greyish hue of her skin, the lifelessness of her body and knew that what the detective had told her was true. The pictures he showed her were real. She felt the color drain from her face as she stared at the screen with widened eyes. The shock of the truth before her kept her from blinking away as the screen flashed a bright light before focusing back in on her… alive and sitting up, chatting with the women. "Oh… my… dear Lord Jesus… What in the literal hell did I just watch?"
"Now you understand our dilemma, Miss Fisher. You were dead for eight days. You should not be here. So, tell me; why are you alive Amy Fisher?"
Amy kept her eyes on the screen, her brain scrambling to make sense of all she had seen. "I seriously have no idea."