Page 12 of Help Me Remember
He looks at me with sympathy. “I would go back to the beginning and work to find the end.”
I rest my head on my pillow, gazing out of the window. “I wish I could have a different ending than losing Isaac.”
“But what if that single moment changed your entire story?”
“Maybe it should because my brain doesn’t want to remember the plot anyway . . .”
ChapterThree
BRIELLE
My mother enters the room, but her smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “Hi, Brie.”
“Hi.”
“Oh, those flowers are beautiful.” She walks over to the counter where a massive bouquet of pink roses is sitting.
“They are.”
“Who are they from?”
I smile. “You can look at the card,” I grant her permission.
She reads it with her back to me and then places it back. “That was sweet, I guess.”
I resist the urge to groan. “Yes, it was. It’s the only thing I’ve heard from him since I woke up.”
Mom smiles. “Yes, well, I spoke with Holden just a few minutes ago. He said you’re doing well and that you’ll get to go home tomorrow?”
Okay, I see that conversation is done.
I always hate how she phrases statements like questions when she already knows the answer. “That’s what he said.”
“And you both think it’s okay to return back to your apartment? I’m just not sure how I feel about it.”
If I show an ounce of worry, she’ll move back here and that would be the worst possible outcome. My mother is wonderful—when she’s four hundred miles away. We are too much of the same person to live close.
“I think that being in my space with my things will really help. It could be the jolt that I need to remember my life.”
She sighs heavily. “I don’t know.”
“It’s not up to you, Mom. I know you mean well, but I can handle this.”
“Can you? Can you really manage this, Brielle? Your brother is dead, and you . . . I almost—”
The crack in her voice causes my heart to do the same. “I’m sorry.”
She turns her head and wipes her eyes before forcing another smile. “No, no. I’m fine. It’s just been difficult. That’s all. A mother is supposed to be able to help her children, and I can’t fix anything that’s happened. I can’t help you, and now Addison wants to go away . . .”
“Leave?” I ask quickly. “What do you mean, go away?”
Mom’s eyes meet mine. “I shouldn’t have said it that way. She doesn’t want to leave and not come back so much as get out of here for a bit.”
“I don’t understand, she loves this town.”
“And she loved Isaac in this town. She can’t handle being here, and everyone is mourning him. Everything she sees reminds her of him, and she thinks it would be best for her to have some space—at least until we find out what happened.”
Because this town was them.
