"Mr. Richard when did that exactly happen?" detective Danes asked.

"About thirty minutes ago. I called 911, and I was told to report the incident to the nearest police station."

"Okay. What is your fiancé's name? And I need a picture of her as soon as possible."

"Her name is Hazel... I mean... I don't know her name."

"Excuse me?? You don' know your fiancé's name? And who is Hazel then?"

"I call her Hazel... It's complicated... I just need to find her please help me."

"Patrol cars and all Manhattan's checkpoints are informed and on the subject, so don't worry. But what I need to understand is how you don't know your fiancé's name. Do you suffer from any mental or memory complications that I should be aware of?"

"No sir... no, I am okay. It's just personal."

He gave me a long suspicious look then finally broke the silence with a sigh.

"Well at least give me a clear picture of her."

I grabbed my phone and opened my camera roll. Wait a minute... when did I ever take a picture of her? Or when did we even take a picture together? Never. She once mentioned that she hates pictures. "I'm so not photogenic," she always mumbled. God knows how ironic that sounded to me.

"I don't think that's an option either."

"Seriously?"

"I reset my phone recently and lost all pictures," I had to lie, "and she's not the type of person who posts her pictures online."

Actually, she thinks social media is a waste of time; I couldn't say that though, because this already sounded too bizarre to be plausible, and I couldn't risk making the detective suspicious of the whole incident just for some slight details.

He stared for a moment, like he's waiting for me to say something, but then gave up.

"Okay Mr. Richard you can leave now. We will inform you with whatever developments in the case, and so should you. Try to relax, and if you remembered anything or if anyone, related to the case, contacted you, please let us know."

And then I wondered if I should tell him about the smiling driver. The thing is there is nothing special about the man and I just can't describe him well. I was never good in describing people. I will just waste his and my time. And I am already too tired to speak.

"Mr. Richard is something wrong?"

"No detective. I am okay. I will leave now."

I left the station quietly. New York City Police Department. I never knew today morning that I will end up getting out of that place and my heart in pieces.

Where are you Hazel?