Page 71 of Amnesty

Eddie leaned forward and hit the button for the floor we’d just left. Turning to me, he said, “I had to convince her to leave the island.”

Shock rendered me immobile. “She didn’t want to go?”

“She wanted to, but she’s scared of him. I almost feel she’s been brainwashed.”

“Widow West sounded the same way when she was going on about him.” Without thinking, I reached up and tugged the ends of my hair nervously.

Eddie’s hand came over mine. “He’s not going to hurt you.”

He knew I was thinking about what Sadie said yesterday. It was very similar to what the widow had said. He was going to be angry I cut my hair. He was going to punish me.

The elevator opened, the familiar hallway back in sight. Eddie led me off, stopping by a few windows that overlooked a parking lot.

“Do you think she’ll be up to talking?” I asked.

“I think there’s only one way to find out.”

As we went back toward Sadie’s room, my tummy filled with nervous energy. I couldn’t help but be a little scared of the things we might learn.

Torn. I felt torn between two women. Stretched so thin I was in danger of ripping.

For so many years, I begged the lake to give back Sadie. I bargained. I threatened… I prayed. I sank deep into the depths of guilt, what-ifs, and unknowns.

The lake replied. And in true Lake Loch fashion, what I was given was a mystery within the mystery. An answer that unwrapped a million more questions.

Not one girl, but two. And me with only one heart.

The lake was probably laughing now, proud of the game it played so very well.

Be careful what you wish for?

No.

I would rather struggle than not be here today. It didn’t matter that what I begged for came in a package I wasn’t expecting.

I had Sadie back. And I had Amnesia.

Those were two regrets I would never have.

I did feel some remorse, though. This was hurting Amnesia. She tried to hide it, but her poker face was nonexistent. I was glad for that because it was easy to see when she needed something (except when it was dark). Or maybe I was just that in tune with her, that perceptive of her emotions.

She might not have much memory. Unfortunately, she made up for it tenfold with loss. For a while there, I really thought she was Sadie. After the allergy, I changed my mind, but I’d slowly been changing it back.

Now we knew who she wasn’t. We just didn’t know who she was.

Even though we were never sure she was Sadie, finding out she wasn’t? It was like ripping away her identity all over again. Amnesia had lost herself twice.

That’s twice more than most anyone ever experienced.

She thought it mattered to me. Her identity. Maybe at first it did. It was all I thought about. But the longer I sat beside her bed, the more and more I was around her, everything inside me shifted. Toward her. Like the cells in my body permanently rearranged themselves to match up to her indefinitely.

I was already gone, fallen deep. I fell in love with the person she was, not the name she might have had.

Amnesia halted just before I could open the door to the room. “I’m nervous.” She confided.

“I think it would be weird if you weren’t.”

“Do you think she knows me?” Am asked, anxious. I knew she was afraid of what she would learn. She was also afraid she wouldn’t learn anything at all.

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