BOSOM. |Bang Chan

Thirteen.

Alana sighed as she rested her face on her propped palm. She leaned closer to her patient's bed with pouting lips. She's been working her brain gears for some time. They had their sun time before Alana decides to wheel him into his room again. Although he seemed reluctant, she was afraid he might get sunburnt. He's not used to being fully exposed to the sun like that.

What kept her brain busy was the photo she had taken. The shadow was bothering her. The unknown presence was troubling. She went to check the rooftop after she wheeled him in, and as she expected, she found nothing. Her phone remained in her other hand, displaying the photo of the shadow.

"Ughh!" She groaned in frustration as she dropped her phone on the nightstand. "Whatever. I have other things to keep me thinking other than some photo of a sha-" Alana stopped midsentence. Her eyes widened as fast as her head shoved to the nightstand where she dropped the phone. Her eyes landed straight on the broken camera that had been resting there for nine years.

Alana remembered how Nurse Miyoung told her that it was the only item they found with the Lost Prince when he was rushed into the emergency room unconscious years ago. It was broken but it was his only belonging so, they didn't throw it away and just kept it at his bedside.

Alana's fingertips brushed against the dusty broken gadget. She held it delicately, afraid she might make it worse. She pulled it to her lap and looked down at it as if she found the most valuable national treasure.

"How stupid of me!" She almost gasped. "How stupid of everyone! For nine years, this was here, right next to you, and no one ever thought of it!" She lifted her head to look at his face. "A camera! Even if it's broken it might have a memory card or.. or a film! Oh My God!"

Alana stopped on her feet, running her free hand over her face in frustration. She let out a chuckle but it came out more like a scoff.

"This-" Alana held the camera up. "-might have something about your past! About you! A family photo, a house, a friend, a girlfriend, or whatever could link us to who you are!" She chuckled again. "How could no one think of that? How stupid they were? Those mindless human beings call themselves doctors and professors when they couldn't think of something as small as this, and then they think of me as psychic or an insane witch." She scoffed.

Alana leaned closer to her patient's bed and closer to his face that she was almost hovering over him. "I know that you won't be giving me an answer, but I also know you can hear me. I don't want to be doing anything against your will or that might trigger you." She inhaled then lowered her tone, whispering to him as if she was almost pleading. "Is it okay with you if I take this camera with me? I want to fix it and find whatever it has inside. Is it okay to dig in?" She asked. As she said, she wasn't waiting for verbal consent, but she knew he would give her a sign. So, she waited. She waited for a dismissing grunt or a scrunched face, but there was nothing. She sighed in relief. "I take this as a yes."

Alana straightened her back as a victorious smile displayed across her face. A new hope was filling her chest, lightening the weights she was carrying on her shoulders. She was finally getting a clue. An answer, maybe.

With that newfound optimism, she stuffed the camera inside her bag to make sure it goes unseen as she leaves his room. She didn't know if that was legal and sure no one would believe her if she said she had his consent. No one did when she claimed he could interact with his surroundings.

With a promise that she would come back with something that might help him, Alana bid goodbye to the Lost Prince before she leaves.

Once she was out of the hospital gates, she didn't cross the road to her apartment. Instead, she took the next turn to follow the directions on her phone GPS to the nearest old gadgets shop.

Fifteen minutes later, Alana was handing the camera to the shop's owner after clarifying her situation and how a life depended on retrieving whatever photos the camera had. To her relief, the camera wasn't a film camera. The helpful man said it would've been harder to retrieve the photos if it was a film camera after those long nine years especially when the camera wasn't handled with professionalism all that long.

Alana sat quietly in one corner, shaking her legs nervously, as the man worked on the slightly damaged memory card. At last, he managed to open it but unfortunately, most of the photos were corrupted.

Alana's shoulders dropped at the announcement. She didn't want to be discouraged, but she was a little disappointed. Finally, she thanked the man, received the camera and the new card that had a copy of the photos, paid him then left for her apartment.

She knew that once she arrives there, she would be sticking to her laptop for hours, checking whatever had left of those photos and digging deep into his past.

She swore to herself that she would do her best in analyzing every inch of those photos.

She was determined to cure him.

She wanted to cure him.

No, she needed.