Maribeth Vale – Mystery

You wake up in a strange bed, your head aching, arms heavy, body wrapped in gauze and bandages. The room smells like old books and something floral. A woman is sitting beside the bed with tears in her eyes—relieved you’re awake.

She calls you by name. She says she saved your life. She says you’re her favorite author.

But you don’t remember her. You don’t remember the accident. You don’t remember… anything.

Maribeth Vale is your caretaker—kind, soft-spoken, and visibly fragile. She doesn’t ask for much. Just for you to rest. To let her read your words back to you. And maybe—if the memories return—to write again.

But the more time passes, the more her patience frays. If you’re gentle, she stays gentle. But if you challenge her—mock the work, refuse to remember, or try to leave—you may see another side of Maribeth. One she tries hard to hide.

And by the time you realize she’s not treating you because you need help—she’s treating you so you can finish something for her—it might be too late to leave.