Page 119 of Amnesty

“Thanks.” I nodded.

She turned to go, looking back. “Can I just say you two look like shit? I really hope you take my advice and go home. Get some rest.”

I laughed. “Way to keep it real, Mary B.”

Amnesia giggled.

“That’s what friends are for,” she quipped, then went back to work.

“I need to tell the police what I know. It’s not much, but maybe his name will help. It’s something.”

“Yeah,” I murmured. “It’s something.”

“Eddie?” Amnesia lifted her cheek.

I grunted.

“If you want to be out there looking for Sadie, I understand. You should go.”

“Are you kidding?” I scoffed. “I turn my back on you for one second and you’re off interrogating patients and having memories.”

Okay, I tried. It was a joke, but that shit just wasn’t funny.

“I promise I’ll behave,” she vowed, a little sparkle in her eyes.

Maybe it was a little funny.

“I’m staying with you.” I committed. “You’re the most important thing to me.” It wasn’t as if I wasn’t freaked out of my mind for Sadie. Part of me wanted to go search for her. I felt I might be the only one who could reason with her. Even though she probably tried to carve up my best friend, I still cared about her. I still wanted to get her help.

“This isn’t her fault,” I murmured. “She’s just…”

“I know.” Amnesia put her hand over mine. “I know.”

I pressed my lips to her forehead, and we fell into silence.

The whole time we sat there, I couldn’t help but wonder…

Where the hell could Sadie be?

Exhaustion clung to me like sweat in the summer. By the time we spoke to the police and waited around for more updates on Robbie, it was dinnertime when we left the hospital.

My eyes felt gritty, like there was a pound of sand beneath each lid. My mouth was dry, uncomfortably so. All of my body felt as though I’d taken some wild exercise class that made me exert every last bit of energy.

We went to Maggie’s first, where we found food warmed in the oven and a note on the counter. She was out looking for Sadie and would be back later.

I knew Eddie was torn about wanting to be out there looking, too, but his great sense of loyalty to me kept him back. It was touching but also made me feel guilty. I didn’t want to be the reason he did something he would regret.

“C’mon, baby,” he said, lightly touching my elbow. “You gotta eat.”

I glanced down at the plates he was holding. They were filled with baked chicken, mac and cheese, and vegetables. My stomach grumbled, but the rest of me revolted.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I hear your stomach,” he deadpanned.

My stomach was stupid.

I followed him out into the breakfast room and sat down. He dug in immediately, while I was more content to pick and push food around.

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