Page 50 of Amnesty

I jumped up, pacing away. Then paced back.

I was going down there. To hell with the consequences. If it were me, Eddie would already be down there, ready to fight.

I charged over, determination (or maybe adrenaline) filling my limbs. There was a metal ladder leading down into the hole. It was thin, unsafe, and frankly scary looking. I turned around and dropped my feet on the top rung. The metal vibrated loudly, making my entire lower body quake, but I didn’t stop.

I started climbing down, the metal groaning and shifting as I went.

“Oh my God! He’s coming! He’s coming. Hide!” a woman screeched. My body reacted, turning toward her yell. That voice was familiar to me…

“Hello?”

“It’s not him,” Eddie said. “It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

Who was he talking to?

“Amnesia.” Eddie appeared out of the dark when I was just about at the bottom. My fingers hurt from gripping the metal so hard. “What are you doing?”

“I called for you. You didn’t answer,” I replied.

He reached out, completely lifted me off the ladder, and put me gently on my feet. His chin lifted toward the surface where the sunlight streamed in. “We can’t all be down here,” he said, grim.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, gazing around.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, leaning over and kissing my temple. “You were scared.”

“I still am,” I whispered.

Eddie wrapped an arm around me, and I leaned my cheek into his chest with a sigh. From the safety of his arms, my eyes gazed around the poorly lit space.

The walls were rock, as though this place were carved right into the land. The floor was hard, uneven, and dirty. I had a distinct memory of what it felt like to be dragged across the surface, completely naked, and flinched.

Eddie’s other arm came around me, and I gripped his arm.

There was a crude wooden table and chains… lots of thick, rusty-looking chains.

My eyes moved past them, past the empty side of the room, where a wadded-up article of clothing lay, then on toward the light… and the girl who stood within it.

The second our eyes collided, I gasped and straightened away from Eddie.

“Sadie,” I murmured without even meaning to.

“You remember,” she said, staring at me as intently as I looked back at her.

“You’re Sadie,” I echoed, shock rippling through me.

She started to say something, but I spun, tears flooding my vision, and looked at Eddie. “I’m not her,” I said, voice weak and wobbly. “I’m not Sadie.”

He shook his head. “No, baby. You aren’t.”

I collapsed against him, a sob ripping from my chest. As I cried, my mind raced. I’d come here for answers, thinking I would find my kidnapper. Thinking I would find proof of what everyone already knew.

That I was Sadie. The girl who vanished over eleven years ago.

Turns out everyone was right to doubt it. Even Eddie.

I wasn’t Sadie. She was. And I knew her… but I didn’t know how.

I didn’t know how I knew any of this place, but it was so obvious I did.

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