Page 5 of Forget Me Twice

Understanding dawns, and I want to shrug, throw him off his game. But I know the answer. I couldn’t forget the details if I wanted to.

It’s my curse.

And this man knows that.

“It was royal blue, with white stitching that saidIn Training. It had a patch but I didn’t pay attention to what it was for,” I fake-grimace, hoping that’s the end of the interrogation.

I should have known better.

He quirks one of those dark eyebrows and I huff out a breath.

“It saidDon’t Pat Me - I’m Working,”I continue, my voice flat and resigned.

That eyebrow is still quirked.What an asshole. “Interesting. Still, seems little more than a neat party trick, wouldn’t you say?” He’s trying to goad me. “One might even suggest you are merely a veryobservantyoung girl.”

When I don’t rise to his bait, he leans forward, reaching for an expensive-looking, leather messenger bag that the table had previously hidden from view. He reaches under the flap to retrieve a piece of white letter paper from inside. In a smooth motion, he slides it across the small table, past my abandoned cocoa.

I pick it up and glance down at the words. It appears to be the first page in a consulting contract between the Mayor’s office and a construction firm. I look back up expectantly, but Sebastian just nods curtly towards the paper in my hands.

He wants me to read it. So I do, scanning as quickly through the document as I can without skipping any of the details. As soon as my eyes hit the wordsPage One of TwelveI look up. He doesn’t say a word to me, just reaches over and grabs the paper from my loose grip.

“Now, recite it back to me.”

I try my best to school my features, but my eyebrows are pinching a little. This is the beginning of the end, I can feel it. The noise in my head that the food was working to quash is getting louder, but I can see the page clearly in my mind’s eye. As clearly as if I still held it up before my face.

“Consulting Agreement as pertaining to City Construction Management Services,”I begin.“This consulting agreement is made and entered into between the City and County of Lexington, acting by and through its Board of Council Directors, whose address is—” I pause when he holds up a hand.

“Now, two paragraphs down.”

I shift my inner focus to where I can picture the bottom half of the contract perfectly.

“In terms of Consultant responsibility, the Council shall not oversee the work of the Consultant or instruct the Consultant on how to perform the agreed upon works. Consultant shall remain solely responsible for the professional quality, technical accuracy, timely completion and co-ordination of all studies, reports and other works rendered during the agreed time period of the project. Consultant is responsible for—”Again, I am pulled up by the motion of his hand.

I’m sure my expression looks petulant. I’m cornered and trapped. Only this isn’t something I can gnaw a limb off to escape.

Sebastian on the other hand, lookstriumphant. It’s the most emotion I’ve seen on his face thus far.

I close my eyes. I know what’s coming next.

It’s hisgotcha.

Sebastian knew exactly who I was and what I could do before he ever sat down. Before he ever turned up on that street corner. I can’t even fathomhow, but at this point, it doesn’t matter. Only that I know my days of anonymity and independence are numbered.

“Sabine Ingrid Winters. 14 years, 2 months of age. Severe trauma to the left anterior temporal lobe following motor vehicle accident at 12 years, 3 months of age. Accident also responsible for the deaths of father Quinton and mother Andrea Winters. Eleven months of rehabilitative physical and occupational therapy before being removed from emergency foster placement.”

I slowly open my eyes. His voice sounds smug. It’s as self-satisfied as his stupid, devilishly handsome face. I want to say I wasn’tremoved,but rather wasrun off,but I’m not giving him any morepiecesof myself today.

I also don’t want to admit that everything I know about myself—my name, my parents’ names, how old I am—I learnt for the first time during my recovery. I can only remember the days I’ve lived since I woke up in that hospital bed.

Everything prior to that is one big blank.

The filthy clothes and irreverent mouth are thanks to living and surviving alongside the esteemed homeless community of South Lex for the last year. The head full of useless knowledge and stories is from the daylight hours spent curled up in the comforting warmth of the municipal library.

Were my parents loving? Was I polite and well-spoken? Did I do well in school?

Was I happy?

I look away, my eyes following a couple as they make their way towards the door. I don’t feel all emotions as strongly as a result of the brain injury he’s so gleefully dissecting, but it doesn’t mean I appreciate the very public post-mortem I’m receiving in the corner of this cutesy hipster cafe.

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