You walk past the man, making only brief eye contact. You should get off the street, go inside where someone might be able to help you. You push into a building with shiny glass doors and a lobby lush with green plants and air-conditioner cool. A woman in a suit stops you with a warm smile.
“Can I help you?”
“Oh, yes!” Your breath comes out in a rush. “I think I’ve lost my memory.”
Her smile freezes. She places her arm out, simultaneously gesturing to the door and preventing you from moving further into the room.
“I’m sorry—the bank can only allow customers and account holders past this point.” Her smile grows larger and colder. What do you do?