Lost and Found In Love (WRITING IN PROGRESS)

Chapter 4

The early morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting faint stripes of light and shadow across the hospital room. William sat up in bed, his back resting against a stack of pillows. The blank business card with its embossed initials, W.H., was perched between his thumb and forefinger, a constant enigma he couldn't shake. He'd spent hours staring at it, willing it to unlock the secrets buried in his fragmented mind.

Clara entered the room with her usual measured pace, holding a fresh cup of coffee and her ever-present clipboard. "Still on that, huh?" she said, nodding toward the card in his hand as she set the coffee on the small table beside him.

William glanced up at her, his expression a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "You make it sound like I have anything better to do," he said dryly.

Clara chuckled, her smile warm but fleeting. "Fair point," she admitted. "But maybe it's time we try a new approach. Sometimes clues need context, and staring at them won't give you that."

"And what exactly do you suggest?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She perched on the edge of the chair beside his bed, crossing her legs as she considered him. "We dig deeper," she said. "Make some calls, follow up on anything that might lead to answers."

William stared at her, surprised. "Calls?"

Clara nodded. "The initials might stand for a company, right? Maybe W.H. is a place where you worked or a business you dealt with. It's worth exploring."

The idea sent a jolt of both hope and apprehension through him. The possibility of uncovering something tangible about his past was tempting, but it also carried the risk of discovering something he might not like.

"What if it doesn't lead anywhere?" he asked cautiously.

Clara shrugged, her expression pragmatic. "Then we'll try something else. Recovery isn't about getting it all right on the first try—it's about persistence."

Her words settled over him like a balm, soothing some of the anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. He nodded slowly, setting the card down on the table. "All right," he said. "Let's do it."

Clara returned a short while later with her personal phone in hand and a determined look on her face. She'd pulled up a search engine, typing the initials W.H. into the bar along with the faint logo embossed on the card. A triangle. Simple, but distinctive.

"Let's start with this," she said, handing him the phone. "Anything look familiar?"

William scrolled through the results, his eyes scanning the names and images on the screen. Most were generic—consulting firms, logistics companies, law offices. Nothing jumped out at him until he landed on a logo that mirrored the one on the card.

"There," he said, pointing to the screen. "That's it."

Clara leaned over, her eyes narrowing as she read the name aloud. "Weston-Hale Consulting." She straightened, meeting his gaze. "Does that sound familiar?"

William frowned, the name stirring something faint but frustratingly indistinct in the back of his mind. "Maybe," he said. "It feels... like I've seen it before. But I can't place it."

"That's okay," Clara said, her voice calm and reassuring. "Let's see if we can contact them."

It took a few calls to navigate the automated system and get through to a human voice. William sat quietly, listening as Clara handled the conversation with the receptionist.

"Yes, I'm calling on behalf of someone who may have been associated with your company," Clara said, her tone professional. "The initials are W.H., and we believe it might be Weston-Hale Consulting."