Page 135 of Amnesty

“I see.” Dr. Kline frowned.

“Will you be able to help her?” Amnesia asked, worried despite the wound in her side.

“Yes. I’ve already made arrangements for Sadie to get the best care possible at a facility in Portland. She’s going to be in good hands.”

“She’s going now?” I asked, feeling this was all so sudden.

“It’s what’s best for her. So she can’t hurt anyone else or herself.”

I knew it was best, but it still sucked. “I’ll get her,” I offered.

The EMT ripped open a large wipe and pressed it against Amnesia’s side. Her breath hissed between her teeth, her eyes closed.

“It’s okay,” I told her, squeezing her hand, wishing I could take the pain.

Dr. Kline stepped forward, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Stay here with Amnesia. I’ll get Sadie.”

I pulled back, looking into her eyes.

“It’s for the best,” she said gently. “At least right now.”

I hesitated, wanting to resist. It seemed I was somehow turning my back on Sadie.

Dr. Kline seemed to know the direction of my thoughts. “Do it for her. It will make it less confusing later. I’ll be sure to call when she’s more stable, more in touch with reality.”

“Will she ever be?” I worried.

“I think so.” The doctor smiled. “Take care of Amnesia,” she said, gesturing to Am.

“Thank you, Dr. Kline,” she called out.

Dr. Kline gave her a small wave. “See you at our next session.”

When she was gone, Amnesia glanced at me. The EMT covered her wound and announced we were heading the hospital alone. Sadie would follow in a different vehicle.

I climbed in the back after she was comfortably situated and stared at Sadie, who was finally away from the body and now with Dr. Kline. She glanced up; our eyes connected across the yard.

I had a vision of the girl I once knew, happy and carefree. Tears burned the backs of my eyes.

Then she did something. She lifted her hand and made an X over her heart and smiled.

I smiled back. The old-school gesture gave me hope everything would be okay.

The doors of the ambulance closed, cutting off the harsh lights and the sound of people talking. I turned to Amnesia, finally alone with my girl in the center of quite literally murder and chaos.

“Thank you for protecting me.” She reached for my hand.

I smiled, slid closer, and cupped her face. “Thank you for staying in the house.”

“It felt kind of wimpy,” she admitted.

“There is nothing wimpy about you, Am. You protected yourself for years and years with no help. You aren’t alone anymore, sweetheart. You have me, and I will always protect you.”

A tear ran down her cheek. I brushed it away with the backs of my fingers.

“It’s finally over,” she whispered.

“It’s finally over,” I echoed.

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