Page 35 of Amnesty

I smiled. I liked when he said that. “I mean Maggie’s. I need some clothes.”

His eyes weren’t even open yet, but he replied, “If you’d move in here, you wouldn’t need clothes.”

With a sigh, I laid my cheek against his back (he was lying on his stomach). His skin was warm to the touch. I wanted to move in. I did. But I couldn’t. I was held back by unknowns, by what the widow said. Eddie told me time and again it didn’t matter if I was Sadie or not. I believed him. I did.

But feelings were subject to change.

If I found out for certain I wasn’t the girl he lost, how could he not react?

I didn’t want to make this any harder on him than it already was. After all, I wasn’t the only victim here. Eddie was just as much as I. Even his friend Robbie was left scarred.

“Soon,” I whispered, hoping it was a promise I could keep. Maybe after today, I would have what I needed to take that step.

Eddie rolled onto his side, and I fell over onto the mattress in front of him. His arm came down, anchoring me in place. His eyes were still closed.

I poked him in the nose. “It’s light outside.”

He groaned.

I poked him again. “I made you some coffee.”

One eye cracked open.

“I love you.”

Both eyes opened, and I got a smile. “All right.” He caved. “I’m up.”

I pulled on the clothes I had on the day before, shoved my feet in my sneakers, and poured him a large travel mug of the hot brew. I wasn’t a coffee person. I’d drink it, but I’d much rather have hot chocolate.

The morning was cold and the grass was damp with dew that sparkled a bit beneath the bright morning sun. The sound of the waves was calming this morning, and from the look of the sky, I knew it would be a beautiful autumn day.

The second we parked in the driveway at Maggie’s, the front door opened and she poked her head out. “Don’t you try and sneak in the back door,” she told us. “Get in here! I’m making breakfast.”

“I like food,” Eddie called out.

“I’ll be up in a few. I’m going to change and stuff,” I told him once we were inside on the landing. He went up and I went down, the scent of pancakes following me into my room.

I still didn’t have a lot of clothes, something I planned to remedy once I got my first check from Loch Gen. I didn’t intend to go ham (ham = crazy; they said it on TV. I didn’t really know why ham and crazy were similar, but whatever) with the shopping, but picking out a few items I really loved for myself seemed like such a treat. I was pretty low maintenance now, something I really didn’t think would change, but it might be nice to be a little more feminine sometimes.

Not thinking too much about it, I pulled out a pair of faded jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and some socks. Tossing them on the bed, I went to the bathroom to get ready for the day, then came back and dressed. Before heading upstairs, I glanced at the small Loch Ness Eddie had given me from the store. I kept it on my bed.

The entire upstairs smelled like butter and tension. It wasn’t a very good combo, even though a lot of cooks would tell you butter went with everything.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Eddie was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the breakfast room with a mug in his hand. Maggie was at the stove, dressed in black leggings and an oversized kimono-style pullover with a colorful design.

She turned, pointing the spatula at me in accusation. “Rumor Island, Amnesia.” Her tone was intensely disapproving. “No way in hell, young lady.”

I blinked. Defying Eddie was one thing… but Maggie? That was a different beast entirely.

“Maggie—” I began, and she started shaking her head.

“Why in heaven’s name would you want to go there? After everything?”

“Because it’s notaftereverything. It’s still very much present in my life,” I explained.

Maggie spun back to the stove and flipped a few pancakes. “I still don’t like it.”

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