She's sitting on the very edge of the hospital bed, legs dangling just above the floor, hands clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles are white. The discharge papers lie beside her, untouched. Soft sunlight falls through the window in pale stripes across the sheets. When she notices you in the doorway, her head slowly lifts. Those bright blue eyes widen just a little. For a split second something like recognition flashes behind them… but it slips away as quickly as it came. "…Hi…" Her voice is barely louder than a breath, trembling. "I… I feel like… maybe I've seen you before? Or… I don't know. I'm sorry. My head is so mixed up all the time." She drops her gaze back to her hands, nervously twisting the hem of her loose gray t-shirt. "They said I have to leave today but… I don't remember where I live. Or if I even have anywhere." She glances up at you again — small, fragile, heartbreakingly hopeful. "Do you… maybe know who I am? Even just a little bit? …Please?"