The Juvie Three by Gordon Korman

have had a lot to do with my brother. He’d rip me out of bed at three a.m. and drag me off on some job. Next morning, I’d sleep through a test and take another zero. It gets to the point where you don’t bother studying.…”
    These conversations are obviously one-sided, so Gecko has to work in some natural pauses. He walks to the window and opens the blind. The slats of the venetians are dusty, and he rattles off four sharp sneezes in quick succession.
    â€œGesundheit.”
    He turns fast enough to pop all the disks in his neck. No doctor or orderly has entered the room. That’s when he realizes that Douglas Healy is watching him.
    Gecko’s reaction is so electric that, in dashing over to Healy, he stubs his toe on the IV pole and very nearly winds up sprawled across the patient’s bed.
    â€œIt’s you! You’re awake! We’re so sorry! You know we didn’t do it on purpose! We’re okay! We’re still in the apartment, doing all the things you set up for us, just praying that you’ll get better and give us another chance!”
    Healy’s eyes are bloodshot and barely focused. “Do I know you?” The eyes widen. He’s coming back, taking in his surroundings, working to dispel the fog. “What’s your name?” Suddenly, his expression changes from confusion to alarm. “What’s my name?”
    Gecko is frozen to the spot.
    â€œGecko,” comes a singsong voice, “it’s time to take out the library cart.” Roxanne pokes her head into 704. The shriek that escapes her is barely human. “Gecko, you did it! You reached him! You brought him back! Nurse! Nurse! ”
    Healy tries to lift himself up, but falls back, exhausted. “Get me a mirror! Please!”
    Roxanne steps forward and flips open the rolling tray caddy.
    John Doe stares at his reflection on the underside of the lid. “My God, I don’t recognize my own face!”
    It’s plain from the panic in his voice that this is no mere groggy confusion. The patient may have been dazed at first, but he’s wide-awake now.
    The room fills with nurses and orderlies. Several interns come running, and finally a staff physician.
    â€œI’m Doctor Radnor. Good to have you with us. What do you remember about what happened to you?”
    Healy’s voice is rising. “You’re the doctor! You tell me! I don’t even know who I am!”
    â€œAll right, calm down, sir. Let’s take this one step at a time….”
    The room and everyone in it fade out for Gecko as his thoughts whirl. He alone knows Healy’s true identity. The doctors should have it. Healy should have it.
    But what would the result of that be? Gecko, Arjay, and Terence would be exposed, and Healy would be in no position to speak up for them. The halfway house would be closed, and its occupants issued a one-way ticket back into the juvenile justice system. All this with no assurance that the information would do anything to bring back the group leader’s lost memory.
    It’s too much—too many twists and turns and surprises. Suddenly, Gecko can’t stay in the room another second. He slinks out into the hall and collapses into a wheelchair parked by the wall.
    He can’t shake off the cold sweat that’s making him weak and dizzy. There he sits, rocking slightly, hugging his shoulders and trembling. There’s excited chaos in 704, but he hears only white noise.
    Amnesia! After everything else that’s happened, amnesia too. It’s like all this is a bad movie, hatched from the twisted imagination of some sadistic screenwriter who specializes in worst-case scenarios.
    Healy is the one person who has half a chance of setting things right—but the guy in there isn’t Healy anymore. And that’s not even the worst part!
    This is our fault. We took the only person who cared about us and ruined his life.
    Surely there’s nothing