I hope you're enjoying the story so far! In case you were feeling a little antsy, I wanted y'all to know that I'll be posting updates once a week every Saturday. We all look forward to the weekends, right? Well, here's something else to look forward to every weekend. You're welcome.

So here's a little food for thought: Who is this mysterious M and why does he insist on staying anonymous? What kind of history does Samantha own? What do you think happened to her? Stick around to find out.

Happy reading!

***

It took everything inside of me not to burst out laughing. I did anyway. "That's the lamest name I've ever heard."

Jackson's frown deepened. "I promise, they're pretty eerie. Keep your voice down."

"How long do you plan on keeping up this 'I have authority over you' thing? It's getting pretty old." Where was this confidence coming from? Damn...

He scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just think it's funny that you think now that you don't remember anything, that now all of the sudden you've got some power over me."

I shrugged. "Well, I guess that erasing a girl's memory without her consent will do that to a person."

He rolled his eyes, "Pretty sure you gave consent. Stop saying that."

"Prove it."

"You want it in writing?"

"Do you have it in writing?" I raised my eyebrow to challenge him, but he smiled, knowing that I called his bluff.

"Touche, Ford."

I smiled sweetly and gestured to the doorway. I spoke in a calm voice, "Would you do me the honor of providing me with a tour, Jackson?" My voice lowered to barely a whisper, "And quite possibly some more information about these Watchers."

Jackson stiffened. "Um, can't you see everything from where you're standing, Samantha?"

I narrowed my eyes, "I'm sorry, do you wish for me to speak louder."

He jumped up, "A tour it is!" He fake laughed and held out his arm for me to take it. "Let's start with the bedroom, no?" I took a few more glances around the kitchen and noticed that the cupboards didn't have doors nor were there drawers in the counters. They were just holes in the white wood. I pursed my lips. Where the hell was I? Another thing that caught me off guard was that there was nothing on the counters. They were bare. I believed that the purpose of counters was to put shit on top of them, right?

We made it to the bedroom and he muttered, "The Watchers have been around for a while. They were first created by their leader: Silas Ledbetter. Do you remember Adolf Hitler?"

"I don't recall," I whispered back. What was with the eerie names? "Who was he?"

"Adolf Hitler was a mass murderer..." he waited for my reaction. When I didn't seem to be too overly horrified, he continued. "He was responsible for deceiving the people in Germany and creating a Socialist group called the Nazi Party. Well, he and his Nazis were responsible for rounding up Jews—" when he saw the look of confusion on my face as he said that, he added, "Which is a type of people..." I nodded, "And putting them into concentration camps so he could wipe out the entire Jewish population."

I blinked. "Did he succeed?"

"Well, he did for a while. But then the Americans stepped in and took care of the situation."

I let him show me around the bedroom, "You do realize that you're going to have to teach me where all of these places are, right?"

He smiled. "That's my job."

"When do we start?"

He shrugged, "As soon as you want. I just have to get a few things if I'm going to be teaching you such sensitive information." I blinked and nodded at the same time, understanding exactly what he meant. I guess there was a reason that my memory had been erased. And I understood that it was going to take a while for me to process all of the information that had been forgotten. I hoped that it wouldn't be anything too difficult.

"Anyway, back to the Watchers," I muttered.

"Well, remember the name, Silas Ledbetter? He's basically the same as Adolf Hitler. He weaseled himself up to the top of the system to get what he needed from us. For your information, you hated him in your, um, previous state."

I scrunched my nose, "Thanks for the tip. What did he do to get to the top of the system?"

"Well, see, Ledbetter basically sucked up to everyone. He wanted to be a part of the... erm, things that we take care of here at HSD. Well, when he found out about the things that we do, he wanted to make sure that this information wouldn't get out, ever. So, he basically fired everyone who could take his job or overrule his decisions." He shrugged, "I guess we'll find out eventually what he's up to. We were hoping that you would actually..."

I held my breath; he was planning on telling me something else about my past. How could I not be excited?

"Nevermind," he said flatly. "The bathroom is in there." He pointed to a white wall with—holy shit! Was that a door? "We wanted you to have some privacy. I expect that you'll change in there as well."

"Change?"

"Naturally." He gestured to the large dresser at the other end of the room. I hadn't noticed any of the room before that moment. I had been too busy holding onto his every word, waiting for some information to come pushing its way back into my head. It made me so upset that I couldn't remember anything about my past. When I thought back, it was just darkness. I had to suppress a groan.

I looked around the room again, taking in the things before me. In the middle of the large room was a bed. It looked far too big for just me to sleep on it myself, but I wasn't going to complain. I think it's fair to say that everything in this entire house was white, the bedroom wasn't any different. There was a dresser across from the bed. I assumed that inside of the drawers were more clothes. I walked over to it and opened the drawers. There were only black scrubs, much like the ones I was already wearing. In every drawer.

I turned around and looked at the bathroom door. Right next to it was a bookshelf, completely empty. I assumed that I would fill it up with the books that I would receive from this M character. Next to the bed was a night table. I eyed Jackson and held up a finger. I walked back to the kitchen and grabbed the alarm clock from where it was sitting on the counter. I smiled as I walked back into the room, placing the silver alarm clock on the table.

"Alright. Is there anything that I need to know?"

He thought about it for a second, "Well, there are a few rules. Do you want them now or at the end?"

"Well, I suppose I should learn them as we go, right?"

"It doesn't matter to me." His voice got serious as he stated the first rule, "Rule One: You're not allowed to inflict any pain upon yourself, anyone who enters this area, nor the furniture or materials that are provided to you."

"Inflict pain? But you were willing to shoot me?"

He shrugged, "That was different. To the bathroom," he led me to the bathroom and swung open the door. "Rule Two: You're not allowed to be in here with someone else with the door closed."

I frowned. That's a stupid rule. Who else would I be in this room with? I eyed Jackson, who looked away uncomfortably. "Are there cameras in the bathroom?" He shook his head. "Microphones?" He shook his head again. "So they don't want you to tell me things, essentially?"

"That's part of it, yes."

I didn't push the conversation further. "Okay, what else?"

"This is your safe haven. If you, for any reason, are feeling a little overwhelmed, the room is designed to give off feelings of comfort. It'll probably be the room that you spend the most time in. There's a shower," he pointed to the shower without a shower curtain. Funny. "A toilet and sink," he gestured, "And a medicine cabinet filled with first aid, medicines that you'll be required to take every day, and hygienic products."

I closed my eyes. "Okay, start over."

"What are you confused about?"

"All of it. Towels?"

He pointed to a cabinet behind the door without a door. There were stacks and stacks of white, plush towels. "They'll be restocked when needed."

"Who will restock them? You?"

"The maid."

My mouth fell open. "There's a maid?!"

"You'll never meet her," he said and his voice sounded like a threat more than a statement of fact.

"Why not?" I furrowed my eyebrows.

He tapped his lips, "I can't tell you that, either. You'll see sooner or later."

I frowned. "Okay, fine." I glanced over at the medicine cabinet. It was a silver, stainless steel sheet of metal. It wasn't a mirror and I couldn't see myself even if I really, really tried.

"Rule Three: You have to clean yourself once daily, brush your teeth twice daily—only after eating—make sure your hair is tidy."

What was with my health? I thought about questioning it, but the look around the bathroom made me afraid to. It appeared that whoever had put this together had a lot of time on their hands. It couldn't possibly have been... me? Could it?

I turned around and left the bathroom, "Alright," I said in a hoarse voice, "If there are going to be any more, I may need to start writing them down." Jackson raised his eyebrow in response to: "Do you have a pen?"