It's the first Sunday in three months that I was not going into the office. I wake up just after 9:00 and step out into the apartment and see that I haven't done any cleaning in nearly a week. I haven't had the time, luckily I wasn't here enough to make any kind of huge mess.

            Mr. Timberlake has yet to even return a single phone call and when he does... oh was I going to have it out with him. Disappearing when you need to clear you head is fine, however you should tell someone, anyone. Rob and Lexie have decided they are keeping the baby and are going to try and make it work. I guess a baby and a sex tape go hand and hand.

            I had intentions on getting some laundry done and maybe even getting this apartment make to at least living quality. Maybe even stop at the grocery store. Never mind scratch that. It would mean I would have clean out the refrigerator. It's better if I just not open it at all.

            Before I even begin anything I am interrupted but my phone ringing. I thought for just a moment, don't even look at it. Whatever has happened can wait till the morning. But of course I ran across the room and pick up the phone. It was the hospitals phone number on the screen.

"Emily Clarkson."

"Hi Emily, this is Michelle. I have been the nurse with John Doe the last couple nights. I was wondering if you could stop by the hospital around 3:00."

"Is everything ok?" I sounded a little panicked but wasn't sure what to expect.

"Everything is fine with him, there is just something the police want to discuss with you and they asked that you be here."

"I will be there."

            The drive to the hospital today was like a deep pit in my stomach. I had a bad feeling that today was going to be devastating for Justin. I assumed they didn't have any news or they still didn't have a clue what had happened. But instead, the Los Angeles Police Dept has handed the only key into this man's life into my hands. His phone. They assume that the phone was in his pocket or wedge under his leg and when I removed him from the vehicle the phone hit the ground. The entire car was burnt to a crisp however this survived it all. It was found on the street when they cleared the area.

"Ma'am' if you could see to it that he gets this phone that would be appreciated."

As he hands it to me, I get pissed off, "How long have you had this phone?"

"Since the scene of the accident. It has cleared from evidence now and he can have it back."

"So, you are telling me that you have had a piece of this man's history this entire time? The LAPD has let this man sit in this hospital for a six, six whole days with no sign of who he is?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am. That is procedure."

I turned and walked away from him. "Screw your procedures."

            I stare at this blackberry in my hand... pondering for a moment of what I should do. Should I take it to him, see if anything strikes a chord? Should I call a number that says ‘home'?

            I turn on the phone. Seventy five missed calls. Twenty seven voicemails. Fifty two text messages. And one hundred eighty emails. He must be an important person, whatever career he is in. Instead of going through all his person messages and calls I start to go through the contacts. There must have been hundreds of contacts. All names that look familiar to me but the one that stands out the most is Trace Ayala. This person knows the best friend of my client Justin Timberlake. But as I go back up the list, I see one entitled, ‘Mom'. I didn't even have a name of the person that was going to be on the other end. If anyone deserved to know what was going on it should be his mother. I dial the number on my phone and it begins to ring.

"Hello." She has a sweet southern voice.

"Hi, my name is Emily Clarkson." I paused for a moment, I honestly don't know how to say this but I had to. "Do you have a son, maybe about thirty years old?"

"I'm sorry I don't know who you are." She sounded stern however confused.

 "I know that you don't know me. I'm sorry... but I... I think your son was involved in a car accident. I'm at Cedar Sinai here in Los Angeles and he has been here... " she interrupts me.

"You must have the wrong phone number; my son is in New York City. He has been there for a week."

"That may be true, however I got your phone number out of his phone and the name attached to the number was, ‘Mom." She got very quite.

"What is my son's name?"

 "Ma'am, I really can't answer that question. The car accident has left him with some memory issues. The doctors seem to think it isn't permanent but it's been six days, so they are not ruling anything out right now."

"Six days?"

"Yes, the accident was six days ago. He is alert and oriented but has no memory of who he is or anything before the accident."

"This is hard to believe. If this was my son, you would know who he is."

I was very confused. "How would I know who he is?"

"Trust me you would."

"Ok I don't fully understand what you are trying to say however, I'm at Cedar Sinai on the 5th floor. His room number is 5222. I will be in the waiting room for the next half hour or so. I have on blue and white top with a black pencil skirt. Again I am sorry to have to give you this information but I didn't know who else to call... I would really like him to find out who he is and hopefully get his memory back. He is a wonderful person."

She is quite again, I know she doesn't want to believe me but this is what I think I needed to do.

"I will be there in fifteen minutes or so depending on traffic..."

            The minutes seem to tick by minute by minute. My palms are sweating and my foot is tapping against the chair. There was no reason I should be nervous but I was. I had spent the last six days with this guy and I guess the moment his mother walks through that door, I don't have to be here anymore. I can leave him to his family and not a stranger that has spent every waking moment with him.

            The elevator door opens and a woman about my height with sandy brown curly hair steps off. I knew who she was. I knew exactly who she was. That moment I knew what she was talking about. If this was my son, you would know who he was.

She approaches me. "Emily?"

I stood there for a moment breathless. "Lynn. You're Lynn Harless."

"So you know who I am."

I felt the weakness of my knees as I turn around to see if there was a chair behind me. I cup my hand over my mouth. I mumble, "Oh my god..."

She sits down next to me. "So you know who my son is."

My voice shakes, "Justin. Oh my god..."

            I have been sitting next to one of my biggest clients for an entire week. Justin Timberlake has been sitting next to me for the last six days and I had no clue. I start to sob. This guy that I had such harsh feelings and words toward all week has actually been sitting next to me... eating dinner with me... making sexual innuendos at me... he was here the whole time. All the little clues seem to fit now... John Doe was Justin Timberlake.

            With tears in my eyes, I compose myself and ask if she would like to go see him.

"How can I be sure that this is my son?"

            I unclench my hand that is wrapped around his phone and I hand it to her. She just looks at me and falls back down to the chair. She at that moment knew, without a shadow of a doubt that it was her son.

            I walked with Lynn down the hallway silently. Every noise in the world had vanished. We stop just outside of the door. I warn her that he looks fine now, there were some bruises and some swelling left but not much. I stressed that he was physically fine now.

            As we turned into the room, the knot in my stomach grew even tighter. I walked in first.

"Justin." He looked up at me and it was like a small light had been started. "That's your name. Justin... and this..." I turn towards Lynn and motioned for her to walk in. She steps in the room next to me and I see him stare at her for just a moment. "Justin, this is..."

He interrupts me, "Mom. Omg... that's my mom!" The tears start to stream down his face. I remember... I remember... that is my mom... her name is Lynn... I am... Justin Timberlake." He looks up at me. "I'm sorry I made your life a living hell this week." I just smile at him and fight back the tears that I want to shed so bad, my eyes fill up with tears, I can't hold it back.

"It's ok this time... just don't let it happen again."

"I will make it up to you somehow." He says.

Lynn looks really confused, "Did I miss something?"

"Mom, this is Emily Clarkson. She is my PR agent." Justin states.

"How... when..." Lynn still looks confused.

"She started at the firm about three months ago, she took over for Sam."

You see the ‘oh' face on Lynn now.

            I half heartedly smiled at them and said I would leave them alone. My entire body was numb. I felt empty again. I walked as quickly as I could down that long hallway and when I got into the waiting area I hit the floor, sobbing.

            The emptiness had kicked in. I was alone, again.