Gemotions

The sterile white walls of the memory clinic felt oppressive. David sat across from Karen, his childhood confidante, who had a vacant expression. He'd brought her the worn copy of "The Giving Tree," their favorite book, which they’d read countless times in their youth. She had no reaction.

He refused to be discouraged. This was his burden to bear. "The code," he said, his voice a low growl. "Remember the code we used for secret missions?"

She remained passive.

He repeated it, emphasizing each word: "Red… bird… singing… loudly." He waited, his jaw set, his gaze locked on hers.