That Isn't Right Either!

Penelope's panic and confusion hammered against the inside of her skull, making her head hurt. She needed to talk to someone she actually knew—anyone she actually knew—and get this all cleared up but a nurse came in and took away her phone.

"You shouldn't be trying to sit up," she chided before turning to Roman. "You called, Director Cross? What do you need?"

His brows furrowed so deeply it looked like they would never go back to their original position. "Is it possible to have amnesia after an appendectomy? My wife doesn't seem to recognize me."

The nurse's smile wavered and she spoke slowly. "It's feasible…but only lasts a few minutes at most. She barely woke up; it'll come back to her soon enough."

"Can you just check to make sure there's nothing wrong with her?" Roman asked somewhat desperately.

The nurse decided to humor him and turned to the panicked woman on the bed. "Alright, ma'am. Can you tell me your name, age, and the street you grew up on please?"

Okay, that was simple. Penelope knew the answers to those questions. "Penelope Logan…twenty-six…Huntington Drive in South Pasadena."

"That's not right," Roman interjected, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. "Well, her age is. But her name is Penelope Cross and she grew up on Simba Way in Brentwood."

Brentwood?! Her family could never afford to live in Brentwood!

Her father was a professor of Greek and Roman mythology at Pepperdine and her mother was an archaeology professor at USC. They named their children Penelope and Perseus because of a shared love of all things ancient.

They had lived in the same three-bedroom condo her entire life until the medical bills from her father's lengthy cancer treatment forced her mother to sell and rent a smaller place to share with Percy while he finished school. There was no way she ever lived in Brentwood. What did this guy know?

"Let me talk to the patient please, Director Cross," the nurse said patiently before directing her attention back to Penelope. "What are your parents' names? Your siblings' names? Where did you go to school?"

"Trevor and Iris Logan. My brother is Perseus Logan but he has always gone by Percy because he thinks Perseus is too old-fashioned," Penelope said firmly.

She knew this much hadn't changed because their names were still in her weird phone. Her father's was too despite his passing but she hadn't been able to force herself to delete his contact on her other phone either.

"I went to Monterey Hills Elementary School, South Pasadena Middle School, and South Pasadena High School. I studied graphic design at the University of San Francisco for two years before dropping out."

It had been a heart wrenching decision because Penelope had been halfway through her degree when her dad was given his terminal diagnosis. She had told herself she would go home to be with him and support her mom and Percy for a while and go back later.

Later never happened because of the crushing medical debt Trevor Logan's unsuccessful treatment racked up. She had to get a full-time job and that didn't end up being enough either because of funeral expenses.

His life insurance policy lapsed just after his diagnosis and no one would give life insurance to a terminal cancer patient. To pay for his headstone and grave they had to take out a loan, which meant Penelope had to get a second job.

Her mother was drowning in grief and had been on leave for three semesters now but that meant she wasn't getting paid either. She had to hold her family together while working two jobs and paying for rent on her own place after they had to sell their condo.

Roman shook his head vehemently, looking more worried than before. "That isn't right either! She went to elementary, middle, and high school in Brentwood and graduated from the Los Angeles Institute of Architecture and Design!"

Penelope rubbed her forehead. Her headache was getting worse.

She had been accepted there but chose not to go because she had a partial scholarship at USF and wouldn't have to take out as many student loans. She hadn't wanted to leave her family or friends after spending her whole life in the greater L.A. area but scholarships are a big deal.

"Stop talking," she protested wearily. "I don't feel good and you're confusing me."

A stricken expression crossed Roman's face and he looked to the nurse at a loss. She pursed her lips and pulled him aside but Penelope could still hear them. She wasn't stupid just tired and more confused than she had ever been before.

"She may have had a strangely vivid dream while under the anesthesia. But she does seem to know who she is and who her family members are, which is reassuring. I'm sure she'll come back to her senses soon," the nurse said softly.

"Should I call my brother-in-law? He should be able to come over and see her easily enough. Since she remembers him, he might be able to help," Roman whispered back.

"That might be a good idea."

Penelope didn't like that they were discussing her as if she couldn't hear them but she had wanted to be able to talk to someone she recognized. Percy would be able to set these crazy people straight. He knew the truth.

"I can call him myself, thank you very much," she said loudly, making both of them jump a bit guiltily. Good. That was what they got for talking about her like she wasn't there.

Pulling out her phone, Penelope dialed the contact 'Baby Brother' and Percy's cheerful voice greeted her after the third ring. "Penny! How are you feeling? Roman told me you had to get your appendix out; that totally sucks."

Her blood froze in her veins. This was definitely her brother's voice—she would know it anywhere—but he was going along with what these strangers in her room were saying. Was he in on this prank or what?