She opens her eyes to a space filled with white. Instinctively, she looks down at her slim length of body covered with a white sheet and blanket on a hospital bed. She is alone. It is deathly quiet. The one window in the room is made of muted glass, revealing only that it is daytime outside. Within minutes of waking, she closes her eyes as she hears someone at her door and then at her side, taking her pulse. Her female caretaker greets a man and the two of them discuss their patient’s progress. It is then that she opens her blue eyes to search for answers. Who am I? Where am I? Why am I here? The answers are disconcerting. She does not feel, believe, or understand what they say. But if not who they claim she is, who is she?