Page 34 of Amnesia

Besides, Margaret Foster had a right to her curiosity.

Maggie set the basket on the counter between us, peering over the top of a head of leafy lettuce. “You really think it’s her?” she asked, her voice quiet.

This time I knew there were other shoppers in here, so I was quieter as well. “Yes, I do.”

Maggie’s eyes filled with unshed tears and her lower lip wobbled. Margaret always looked put together, her face “always on,” and her brown hair was always styled. But not in an overly done way, just in a way that said she cared about her appearance. Her clothes were casual, just a pair of jeans and a T-shirt bearing the name of our lake.

“Everything you said is true? She still hasn’t recovered any memory?” Then she leaned over the counter to whisper, “And someone tried to kill her?”

I nodded. “Tried to drown her.”

Her voice was hushed. “I’m so ashamed.”

“Why?” I asked, frowning.

“I haven’t been to the hospital. I was afraid it would bring up too many memories. But I was selfish. She’s lost way more than I have.”

“It’s a difficult situation. Besides, up until a couple days ago, she was in a coma.”

“But she’s awake now.”

“Yes, she is.” I smiled. “She’s got some spunk to her. She’s a real fighter.”

Maggie’s eyes lit up. “You really care about her.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I want to help. What can I do?”

First my parents; now Maggie. People were coming around, and I knew once they actually met Amnesia, they would welcome her back.

“Well,” I said, thoughtful, “she needs some clothes. Nothing fancy, not even a lot. All she has is the hospital gown.”

“Poor thing.” Maggie tsked. “I’ll make some calls, get some donations and a few necessities.”

“That would be great.” I smiled. “I’ll take them to her when I go visit.”

“Actually, I’ll take it. I need to visit. It’s time.”

Concern darkened my face, and Maggie saw it instantly.

“I won’t say anything. I understand the situation.”

“Thank you, Maggie. This will mean so much to her.”

“It’s like you said. People in Lake Loch take care of each other. I don’t know where I’d be today if I hadn’t had everyone’s support after my Chris passed.”

I rang up her groceries, and she rushed off to gather clothes for Amnesia, a spark of determination in her eyes.

Despite the fact no one else seemed to believe this was who I believed, they couldn’t prove I was wrong. For now, she was just a victim of something horrible, and she needed help. People were starting to see this, and they would reach out.

It was good enough.

For now.

It seemed more important than ever that I remember. No matter the significance, my brain just wouldn’t cooperate. I turned inward so much sometimes it felt I was losing the present to try and catch up with the past. I bargained with myself, pleaded even, but to no avail.

My mind just wouldn’t give up its secrets. I wondered more than once how bad those hidden memories were if my own mind wouldn’t give them up.

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