Page 35 of The Fates We Tame
By the time I make it to the room, sweat has beaded on my forehead. But for the first time in weeks, my first thought is not for myself.
It’s for Sophia.
When I step inside, I find her asleep on the bed. Her eyes are red from crying. Her hair is mussed. She must have been running her hands through it. I can only imagine her sitting here trying to process her grief.
I feel it for her.
It’s hard to explain amnesia to anyone who hasn’t had it. People just want to resume their friendship with you. But you can’t remember the first thing about them. Imagine how it would feel if a complete and utter stranger walked up to you on the street and began discussing your personal thoughts and feelings with you.
That’s our world.
But the concern in Luca’s voice troubles me.
He’s correct in his assumptions. Sophia does know.
And he wants her out of here.
Tomorrow.
I’m not sure what would happen if she refused. There’s a guard on the parking lot gate. But one bullet would solve that problem. And while Irv is a good watchdog, he’s already seen his best years. The security here is to prevent patients from hurting themselves by wandering out of the facility.
It would be absolutely no deterrent to someone who wanted to get inside.
Especially if that person was armed.
Which means I need to get her out of here first.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I watch her for a minute. Her lips are lush and pink and slightly open. Long eyelashes rest against her cheeks. Her skin is smooth until it reaches her scars.
It would be too easy to be bold and tell her the scars don’t mean anything to me. That I don’t see them. Because I can see them, and they do mean something. They mean there was a point in her life when whatever she was fleeing was more important than her own safety. It shows that when she sets her mind to something, like her recovery, she gives it everything so she can live and function and not let it break her.
Wait. She’s not wearing her eye patch. I look around for it and see it sitting on the small desk beneath the mirror.
Courage is an incredible thing. It’s a well that needs refilling at the end of every day. And somehow Sophia has managed to do that.
The more I study her in the quiet of my room, the more I realize she’s growing on me. She helped me when I needed it most. She’s trying to be positive when you can see the whirlwind happening inside her.
And perhaps, more than that, I want to be the one to help her now when she most needs it.
Placing my hand on her knee, I shake her gently. She awakes with a start and then places her hand to her chest.
“Theo,” she says quietly. “You scared me.”
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to, Sparrow. But we need to talk.”
She places her hands on the bed and adjusts her posture so she’s sitting straight. “Did you hear anything more?”
“Not much more than we already heard.”
“You promise?” she asks.
“I’m never going to lie to you. Your brother, the one with the shorter hair…”
“Luca?”
“Yeah, Luca. He suspects something. He doesn’t know exactly what. He wondered if your memory was coming back. But he said something about how you could always read the two of them. The guy you were promised to marry is rich and has connections that would help your family. They’re worried you won’t go through with it now because of your memory loss.”
Sophia sighs and looks down. “They’re right. I barely know what I’m doing with my life. Adjusting to this is enough. I don’t want to marry a complete stranger in another country away from everything I know.”
