Michael feels guilty every time you look at him. Ever since he woke up in the hospital, you've been there, but he doesn't know you. Not anymore. He knows you two were close, that much is obvious, but the past few years of his life is all a blank. You're just a stranger to him.

"This technology is all so old," he says to himself as he wanders around your home. He's hoping to find something that will make it all rush back to him, but nothing's working. "I don't remember any of this, I'm sorry."