The cramp in Lom's leg woke him. Sitting up he massaged his calf for a few minutes. Putting his foot on the floor he swiveled his ankle several times to make sure the cramp was gone. Looking up he caught Fah watching him.

"Fah, hey, how do you feel?" Lom was happy to see Fah was out of danger. Fah maintained silence but his eyes darted back and forth, scanning the room.

"Do you want some water? Do you want something to eat? You must be hungry after all this time." Fah did not reply. Lom sat down on the edge of the bed next to him, being careful not to bump the IV line.

"Fah, why did you do it?" asked Lom, rubbing his brow. "Why would you try to kill yourself?" He reached out to stroke Fah's hair and immediately Fah flinched, moving away from his hand. It was evident Fah wasn't acting, the terror in his eyes was obvious.

"Fah? Are you okay? Are you afraid of me?" Lom never thought Fah would ever fear him. It was one of Fah's qualities that Lom treasured the most; he had always believed Lom was a good person. Sure, he shot him, but he shot him in the arm, not the head or the heart; not even the thigh which would risk hitting the femoral artery. Hadn't Lom proved he wasn't trying to kill him by bringing him home and getting him medical help?

"Do you want me off the bed?" asked Lom. Fah nodded his head yes. "Okay, I'm getting up. Do you think you can tell me why you're afraid of me?"

Fah's eyes opened wide as he shook his head no. He continued to move away from Lom who was truly confused. Could the drug overdose have messed with his mind? He called the doctor who promised to come immediately.

Within minutes the doctor arrived. Lom briefed him on what occurred. The doctor asked Lom to wait in the bathroom while he spoke with Fah.

"Hello, Fah. Do you remember me?" asked the doctor.

"No," said Fah, in a hoarse whisper. His throat was sore from being intubated the previous day.

"Do you remember what happened?" asked the doctor in a soothing tone.

"No. Not really. I remember the guy who just left shooting me."

"Well, yes, that happened during another incident. He brought you here and has me treating you. Do you remember his name?" Fah shook his head no.

"His name is Lom, does that sound familiar?" Again Fah shook his head no.

"Yesterday morning, Lom left while you were sleeping. You already had an IV (the doctor pointed to the IV line) for fluids to help you heal from the bullet wound in your arm. While you were alone you took all the morphine syringes from the drawer over there (the doctor pointed at the bedside table) and injected yourself with an overdose of morphine. Do you remember this? Do you know why you did this?"

Fah shook his head no again. None of it sounded familiar.

"Sometimes drug overdoses can affect your memory. It can be temporary or permanent. It depends on several factors. What I can tell you is that the man who shot you, Lom, is very worried about you. He will not try to harm you again. He is paying me to come and help you. You can trust him."

"He shot me," said Fah, hoping the doctor would understand his fear.

"Yes, he did. Once you remember everything, you will understand and see he was not trying to kill you, I promise. It's hard to explain everything and you aren't ready for that yet. Do you remember your name?"

"Fah."

"Is that your full name?" Fah shrugged his shoulders. He had just repeated the name everyone had been using for him.

"Your name is Tongfah, but you are called Fah. Do you remember your family?" Again, Fah shook his head no. "How about any friends' names?" Fah tried to think but came up blank.

"I'm going to come back tomorrow but in the meantime, you need to let Lom, the other man, take care of you. You have been friends since you were children, okay?" Fah nodded his head yes, but inside he still didn't trust the shooter.

"Lom, come here please," the doctor called out. The bathroom door opened and Lom walked across the apartment stopping a few meters away.

"Lom, don't be shy. Come here." Lom walked over and stood next to the doctor.

"Fah, this is Lom. He is going to take care of you. He will not hurt you, okay?"

"Mm," Fah said, grudgingly. Noticing Lom's stare he quickly fixed his gaze on the floor.

"Fah, I'm sorry if I scared you, I didn't mean to. I wanted to know if you were hungry." Turning to the doctor he asked, "Fah can eat now, right? Is it safe for him now?"

"Yes, he can eat. Try to give him protein for the best gas exchange to help his lungs. He's getting IV fluids but he should also try to drink water as well."

"Thanks, doctor, I appreciate you coming here so quickly. I'll see you off," said Lom walking the doctor to the elevator door. At the doorway, he paid the doctor in cash. "Will his memory return?"

"I don't know. It might be permanent, it might only be temporary. We got the Naloxone in him pretty fast but he did inject a lot of morphine for his body size." The doctor left and Lom returned to Fah's bedside.

"Is it okay that I'm here," asked Lom. Fah regarded him for a few seconds.

"Okay," he whispered. It wasn't as if he had a choice.

"Would you like anything to eat? Whatever you want, I'll have it delivered."

"What do I like?" asked Fah.

Damn, he can't remember what foods he likes? This is going to be hard, thought Lom. He pulled out his phone and brought up a menu for a nearby restaurant.

"Here, take my phone and look at the menu. Maybe something will sound appetizing to you." Handing his phone to Fah he watched him scroll through the menu. Several times he stopped to read descriptions of foods he had been familiar with before. Finally, he pointed at something. Lom leaned over.

"This, I want this."

"Boba! You always want Boba when you're stressed. I'll get that for you, but what about food? Do you want some curry?" Fah shook his head no. "How about pork basil fried rice?" This time Fah said yes. "Okay, I'm going to order now. If you hear a buzzer or doorbell, that will be the delivery person, alright?" Fah nodded.

Once the food arrived Lom put Fah's on a tray and set it on the table next to him. Fah took a tentative sip of the Boba and then couldn't stop drinking it. Lom smiled. He brought his lunch over to the other side of the bed to talk with Fah.

"Would you like to come over to the couch later and watch TV with me?" Fah nodded yes. "Okay, I'll give you the sofa so you can lie down." Fah shook his head no.

"No?"

"I can sit up. You can share the sofa with me," said Fah.

An hour later the two sat on the sofa watching a show Lom chose. Fah couldn't remember anything so Lom found a show he knew Fah had seen and enjoyed. He hoped it would trigger some memories. Leaning against the back of the sofa, he observed Fah watching the movie. Hit with an urge to touch Fah's hair, Lom reached out. Immediately Fah shied away from him.

He remembers me shooting him but nothing afterward? Is he faking this? No, he was almost dead, I saw it with my own eyes. Why can't he remember my name and our relationship if he remembers my face?

Thinking back he still couldn't believe what had happened. To the best of his knowledge Fah had never kept up the weapons training Ton forced on them throughout middle and high school.

He had been mesmerized watching Fah's rapid movement from sitting to grabbing the gun, jumping up, releasing the safety, and opening fire. He worried that his distraction watching Fah had prevented him from warning and/or protecting Bank, and for this, he felt guilty. However, he placed the blame on Fah.

What would Ton say now that Fah was useless to them? Would he order Lom to kill him? Could he kill him?

On one hand, and Lom realized this was a cold and calculating thought, the Fah next to him had no memories of anyone or anything. Killing him would simply be shooting a carcass. On the other hand, although Fah didn't remember him, he remembered Fah; the good and the bad. He knew deep down he couldn't do it.

If the order came, he would try to return Fah to the judge. The judge, in his opinion, didn't deserve it, but Fah deserved a family. He became aware of Fah staring at him.

"What's up?" he asked.

"The movie, it's over," said Fah, pointing at the TV screen.

"Oh, okay, sorry. I was thinking about something," said Lom. "Do you want to watch something else or do you want to go back to bed?"

"Can I sit here still?" Lom shook his head yes. "The doctor said you've known me since we were kids. Can you tell me about my life...please?" asked Fah.

He didn't make eye contact when asking this; he was still afraid of this man who called himself a friend. No matter what the doctor or Lom said, Fah might not be able to remember much but he did remember you don't shoot friends.

"I can tell you some things. We grew up together, there's too much to tell you everything."

"Oh, okay," said Fah.

"When you were little you lived with your real mom, Mookda. You two were close but she died when you were six. You didn't have any other family so you came to live with me and my parents. My mom adored you and my father loved you also. We grew up as best friends and brothers, sort of. We have different last names, of course. After high school, I went to work for my dad but you were smart so my dad paid for you to study law at the university. You got your degree but about a year ago you moved away. We didn't stay in touch because you and my parents had a disagreement and they kicked you out. You ended up finding your real father, I'm not sure when. He has two sons and a wife and they all love you."

"Why aren't I at home with them?" asked Fah. "Why haven't they come to visit me? Don't I have any friends? Why is it only you taking care of me?"

"It's complicated and that is all I can tell you tonight. I'll tell you more tomorrow. Are you hungry for dinner? You need to eat to get your strength back."