Page 15 of Revenge of the Forgotten

Staring out into the lake, Vega let her mind wander.

There were a lot of missing pieces in her memory. Missing pieces? More like black holes.

Vega couldn’t remember anything before high school—nothing. Her therapist told her it was her way of coping with trauma, but did that really mean she fully couldn’t remember a single memory before her mom’s cancer diagnosis?

When her mom was alive, Vega used to ask about her childhood, about where they lived when she was born, or when they’d moved to Washington State—the pieces of information she had about her life weren’t her own. They were implanted from someone else spoon-feeding her the answers.

Her memories always failed her, but she could remember a home with a lake view, a bedroom high on the side of a mountain, stars so close it felt like she could reach out of her window and grab them in her hand—a place so familiar it felt wrong to believe it was nothing more than a dream.

Her mom chalked it up to having a big imagination, and that must still be true today if she was genuinely considering Arlet’s story.

But Arlet had been the only person in her life, ever, to give her any kind of insight as to where she was from—about who she might be. The only person to tell her the dreams were real.

The more she thought about the girl, the more her scar nagged at her. Vega rubbed her wrist, avoiding digging her nails into her skin still crusted with dried blood.

The itch wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried to disregard it. Vega groaned heavily, standing from the bench.

The dark clouds coming out of the east were getting closer. The colors of the lake were no longer blue like the Caribbean but stained with darkness from the waves churning up the bottom. Vega needed to take cover somewhere, but she didn’t want to go home—she couldn’t go home.

That apartment was no longer the safe space it once was.

Her feet guided her back the way she’d come, but when she got to the crossroads at the corner of her apartment building, something was telling her to go left instead of right.

She gave in to the incessant need to scratch her wrist.

Her mind kept wandering. What would it mean if this life was a mirage to keep her from knowing who she truly was?

Vega didn’t know where she was going. She thoughtlessly followed the feeling growing inside her, like a string was tugging at her heart and she needed to find the end of it.

Maybe the feeling would go away when the rain washed her out to the lake, never to return to this life that didn’t want her.

Perhaps she would walk until she collapsed from exhaustion.

Vega would walk until her feet fell off if it meant she could rid herself of this hollow mood that was starting to consume her.

The string in her chest tugged harder as she stood outside of a restored motel she’d never been to. Vega gawked at the neon sign above her head. It looked out of place in this part of the city, the sign flashing Vacancy in the window.

Her heart pushed her forward.

She took the stairs one at a time, thunder rumbling in the distance. The tug in her chest stopped, the itch of her wrist gone when she approached room number 444. A buzzing in her body told her to knock.

Her fingers rapped against the metal door.

The door opened, and there stood Arlet, leaning against the frame. She didn’t say anything, but her face held an ear-to-ear grin.

“How the hell did I find you?” Vega felt that wave of unconsciousness settle into her and knew what was coming next.

Her vision went black at the same time Arlet stepped forward to catch her.

6

The sun hung low in the sky, the temperature high for this time of the year. The chilled, spring-fed water of Lake Mons passed over Bridger’s hips as he walked backwards, taking small steps, his bare feet shuffling over the rocky bottom.

Bridger’s gaze raked across Vega’s bare skin while she pulled her tight midnight-blue dress off of her body, the light blue jewels around her neck settling between the valley of her breasts.

It had been his idea to skip the dinner their parents planned with the other Curia members and their children, sneaking into Vega’s room before she had the chance to come downstairs and doom them to yet another boring night they didn’t want to be a part of.

Vega looked up from her pool of clothing on the soft grass beneath her, eyes connecting with his. Her laugh was light and airy, filling Bridger’s ears with the last sound he wanted to hear before he died.

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