The question reverberated inside her head, growing more insistent with each passing second. Who she was seemed to slip away. But where did she go?
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She didn't know where to begin, so she started with what felt natural. Her hand reached out towards the table, fingers tracing the outline of a pencil. She picked it up, feeling its smooth texture against her fingertips. Drawing had always brought her peace, so maybe this would help.
Her hand moved with a mind of its own, sketching lines and curves onto the blank paper. She drew shapes she didn't recognize but felt connected to, each stroke bringing her closer to an answer.
What was she doing? The question echoed louder with every heartbeat. What is my name?
She needed help to figure out who she really was. She looked up at me, eyes wide and hopeful.
"Can you tell me what I am?" she asked softly.