Her stern expression softened a little, and she whispered into the tiny computer. I wasn't supposed to hear, I suppose, but I picked up the words "retrograde amnesia. Then she was talking to me, but quietly, maybe even kindly. "Memory sometimes take a while to come back, Mr. Johnson. Do you want me to fill you in?" I nodded dumbly. "You were unconscious when you were transferred from Seattle General, of course," she said, "but-"