A loud beeping forced her awake. She blinked, sitting up slowly, and winced at the pain in her arm. The gray metal door opened, and a tall burly woman walked in. She eyed the room before grabbing the chair at the unused desk and sitting down.

"How are you feeling?" The woman asked, getting straight to the point, it seemed.

She pulled her knees to he chest, mind racing. "Who are you?" She inquired, ignoring the question. Her voice shook, and something about it made her angry at herself.

The woman might've noticed it, because she smirked. "You can call me Coach."

"Just... Coach?" Something tugged at her mind. Strange.

"Yes." The woman's heavy accent made her think of the South, but then again, she couldn't really believe anything she thought right now.

She straightened up a bit. "Do I have a name?"

Coach nodded. "You do indeed."

She frowned. "Can... can you tell me?"

"I can."

"Will you, then?"

"Do you want to know?" Coach raised an eyebrow.

She stopped, impatience working over her. But then she paused. Did she want to know?

Yes. "Yes."

Coach only hesitated for a second. "McKenzie Wolfe."

"Are you telling the truth?"

"I am."

She blinked. The last name sounded a bit... familiar, but the first meant nothing to her. And yet...

This woman was the first person to give her any real answers. Maybe that really was her name...

"So, Mack." The woman folded her arms and leaned back. "I know that you're confused."

She- no, McKenzie nodded.

"Well, don't worry. Everything will make sense soon. For now, get changed from those rags and I'll get you some real food and water."

Clothes were thrust into McKenzie's arms, and Coach left the room.

She blinked again.

What had just happened?