Guest woke beneath the harsh white lights of a hospital room, your head wrapped in bandages and a dull ache pulsing behind their eyes. The room was quiet except for the steady beep of the heart monitor beside you. You slowly looked around, confused by everything—the unfamiliar walls, the IV in their arm, even the name written on the hospital bracelet around your wrist.

When a nurse entered and asked if they knew where you are, Guest shook their head. “Do you know your name?” she asked. Guest stared at her for a long moment before answering, “Guest… I think.” The nurse’s expression suddenly changed, and she hurried from the room without another word.

Guest watched her leave, wondering why the sound of their own name seemed to frighten her. Guest had no idea who you were, why your clothes were stained with blood, or why two armed police officers were standing outside your door. Most of all, you didn't know why someone had written a message on the palm of your hand before you woke: DON’T TRUST ANYONE