Page 13 of Sincerely, Secretary of Doom

Zorah turned with her oven mitts in the air. “Huh?”

“What happened to me?” Violet asked in exasperation.

Zorah paused and pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. She looked Violet over. “You got in a fight?” she guessed.

Violet threw her hands up. “You’re not at all worried that I look like this?” she demanded, and Zorah shrugged.

“I mean, Iwas, but then you started going off about your heels, so I figured you were fine—”

“You’re not wondering or concerned about what might have happened to me for my blouse to look this way?” Violet went on. “I don’t even remember going to bed or…”

A large, ear-piercing bell.

A long, black, rain-covered coat with a hood.

Striking multicoloured eyes.

A steep cathedral roof.

Falling…

Violet gasped as bits and pieces of a chopped-up memory came back to her. Parts of it were missing—like a story with gaps. She couldn’t remember why she was on a roof or how she got there. But Violet remembered falling. She remembered her throat being too thick to scream. She remembered…

Two strong arms catching her in midair. The smell of flowers and an earthy, tea-like aroma hitting her senses as he hugged her close and broke her fall.

Violet slapped a hand over her mouth. Old fears she’d stuffed away rushed upward alongside the vomit that threatened the back of her throat.

“What?” Zorah raised a brow. When Violet didn’t answer right away, Zorah abandoned her to go smell the raspberry pie, but she cast a worried look back toward Violet.

“Zorah, I think it happened again.” Violet sank into the closest chair at the table. She could hardly believe her own words. She couldn’t trust she’d really just said them out loud.

“You thinkwhathappened?” Zorah blew lightly on the pie and pulled a lifter from the drawer.

“I think… someone erased my memories.”

The pie lifter clattered to the floor. Zorah’s glasses fell off, too. She turned to face Violet again without stooping to pick them up. “Are you messing with me right now?” Her words were sharp and to the point like she wouldn’t appreciate it if this was a joke. “What do you mean,someoneerased your memories? You mean you’ve got amnesia again?”

“No, I thinksomeoneis to blame,” Violet said. “Like what happened with all those other women…” She slowly lifted a hand to her chest, feeling her deep, living heartbeat as she thought of the ones who starved to death while they were sleeping.

“Then how do you rememberme?” Zorah asked, ripping off the oven mitts and scooting into the chair across from Violet. Her large, unmaintained brows were scrunched together.

“Not all my memories were erased like last time, just…” Violet glanced at Zorah’s phone to check the date. A whole day had passed since she was let go from The Sprinkled Scoop. “…just part of yesterday, I think. I remember pieces of what happened, but something is definitely missing.” Violet rubbed her forehead, reminded of aspirin and trying not to panic as the familiar feeling of helplessness overtook her senses. It didn’t feel real—that she was waking up again, missing part of herself.

Zorah’s shoulders relaxed and her eyes softened. “Oh.” She almost laughed.

Violet dropped her hand to the table. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, I know. I’m just relieved. I thought it was like, you know, arealmemory wipe or something. Like before.” Her aunt waved a hand around, completely dismissing the urgency of what Violet was saying. She even went back to her pie and poked it.

“I’m being serious,” Violet said.

Zorah nodded. “All right.”

“Zorah!” Violet stood again, and Zorah sighed.

“Yes, I know you are. You look ridiculous and you don’t remember what happened. Let me guess, you were out late last night? Did you enjoy some celebratory festivities with your coworkers at The Scoop for getting hired permanently?” Zorah folded her arms.

“No! I didn’t go anywhere last night! I remember going somewhere yesterday morning though.” Violet glanced off. She’d gone to a cathedral yesterday. She’d gotten the address from a niche newspaper, and she was going to try and get a job interview. But what in the world had happened after that?

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