Page 7 of Until the Sea Runs Dry

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As soon as she said the words, there was a crushing fear in her chest.

Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to picture something — anything — from her past, but where her memories should have been there was nothing but a white fog.

She couldn’t see herself as a child.

Couldn’t see the faces of her loved ones.

Where had she gone to school? Had she graduated? What about a job? Surely she had a career, a profession of some kind?

What of her personal life? Was she married, maybe — God — someone’s mother?

They would be worried sick! She glanced down at her left hand.

No wedding ring.

No engagement ring either.

No rings of any kind.

A sudden wave of nausea forced her to lurch to one side. Her stomach heaved painfully, but nothing came out.

It wasn’t only her mind: she was empty everywhere.

Loki had finally calmed down enough that he wasn’t running around them in circles anymore. Instead, he darted between them, sensing their distress, yet not understanding any of it. He whined and licked her cold fingers.

“I should call the police,” the man said, interrupting her rising panic.

She turned to look at him, saw he was already pulling a phone out of the pocket of his khaki shorts.

“No, don’t do that!” Her words came out in one alarmed sentence.

“You need help...” he began, but she cut him off.

“I can’t. Please. Not the police.”

She couldn’t explain why, but the thought of involving them filled her with more terror than even losing her memory had. Somehow, she had to stay away from them, and not knowing any better, she had to trust her instincts.

Right now, they were pretty much all she had.

“Then I’m taking you to the hospital. Your wounds need seeing to and I won’t take no for an answer,” he replied, giving no room for disagreement.

She nodded. That she wouldn’t argue with.

Her response did make her wonder what kind of person would have such a response to calling the police? Only one answer came to mind.

A criminal.

Had she been involved in a crime that had gone terribly wrong?

Is that why she had washed up on the beach: had she been dumped there?

Even as the panic began anew, she found that conclusion hard to believe. She didn’t feel like a bad person; wouldn’t she know it if she was?

Her rescuer leaned over to offer his hand.

Something about that innocent gesture caused a flash of panic to crash into her mind, stunning her with its ferociousness. An icy finger of fear raced up her spine, causing her to shiver uncontrollably. She shrank away from him, as far as she could go in her current condition.

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