Page 34 of Amnesty

If he’s even there. This is such a long shot.But even I couldn’t help realizing she had a point. That light was some kind of sign. Of what, I wasn’t sure.

“We’ll go when it’s light out.” I compromised. “At least then we can see what we’re dealing with.”

She thought it over a moment. Briefly, I worried she was going to argue. I didn’t want to quarrel with her. I wanted to bury myself inside her.

“We’ll go tomorrow?” she asked.

“I’ll call Dad and have him handle the store.”

“What will you tell him?” She worried.

The truth. Well, a partial truth. “That I need a day with my girl.”

An invisible weight lifted off her. I felt it leave the room.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“That island may not have the answers you’re looking for.” I felt the need to caution her again.

“It may,” she rebutted.

She was right. The more and more I thought about it, I realized Rumor Island might hold a hell of a lot more than just rumors.

I felt like a wind-up toy that had been wound so tight and was desperately waiting to be set down so I could spin off uncontrollably.

I admit the idea of going to Rumor Island was kind of crazy. Sort of like walking into a room with a bunch of potential hidden traps. Scenarios like that only worked out for people like Indiana Jones (we liked movies, too) and others who had mad survival skills.

But you know, I think I had some mad skills in that department. The scars on my body said so. The few memories that haunted me proved it.

I even survived myself. As in I tried to commit suicide and lived.

My thoughts, which had started out sort of lighthearted, even excited, turned dark. Reminding me everything I’d been through was nearly depressing, especially the part where I realized I’d be going back to a place that literally made me so miserable I thought death was my only option. Suicide was no joking matter. In fact, it was quite impossible to even wrap my head around.

I was so far from that mental place. I couldn’t even imagine wanting to end it all. I had way too much to live for right now, and I was able to say that with barely any of my memories.

It made me wonder just how drastically changed I was from before. Was I a completely different person, or was it just because wherever I’d been was such a nightmare?

I wasn’t sure.

Did it even matter?

I guess in some ways it did, but in others? Not so much. I loved where I was right now. Who I was. Eddie. I didn’t want to give it up. I loved this little town with its foggy brick street, small mom-and-pop shops, and views of the elusive lake. I even loved the mystery here, and yeah, I caught myself more than once scanning the water for signs of the legendary Loch Ness.

Hey, it could totally be out there.

Still, as I told Eddie just hours before I needed some answers. Was it strange I just wanted to know things without actually remembering them? Did that mean the information I got would be less reliable? Because it was seen and not felt?

Did not remembering something make it any less significant?

I didn’t think it did, but again, I didn’t really know. Maybe I would revisit that question after our trip across the lake.

The second the sun rose over the water, shooting its orangey-sapphire streaks across the horizon, I got out of bed, unable to wait another moment. Eddie was less than thrilled over my excitement. I knew he was worried about this and about me.

I couldn’t contain it, though. I suddenly felt I had some kind of lead. Like there was something out there that would tell me something. I knew going back there was risky, but I had to do it.

After putting on a pot of coffee, I retreated down the hallway and crawled onto Eddie. “I need to go home for a bit,” I whispered.

He made a sound. “You are home.”

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