Page 15 of Lost Echoes
Why did they have to take those secrets to the grave?
Secrets hidden in the Brannon house can remain hidden for a hundred years or longer. It took that long for us to learn about Millie Brannon and her sleepwalking, and even longer for my namesake’s truth to be discovered.
“It should all be in your inbox.” Luke’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Are you okay?”
I stare at a blank spot on the wall. “My mom went to Radley.”
He wraps an arm around me. “I wish I could say I’m surprised, but given everything I know about your family, it makes sense. Didn’t you say she left and refused to contact her parents?”
“Yeah.” My mind swirls. “Kenzi was a lot younger and felt like Mom abandoned her.”
Luke pulls back and looks into my eyes. “Were you ever there? At Radley?”
“As a patient? No.”
“You’re sure?”
I nod. “My mom was super protective of me when it came to my grandparents. Now I get it.” My heart aches as a fresh wave of grief washes through me. I have so many questions for her, but once again, I’ll never be able to ask her. I hate that she was stolen from me, and now Kenzi has been too. At least we have a chance of getting her back.
And that’s what I need to focus on—freeing her from the hypnosis then getting to the bottom of these experiments and secret programs with kids at the Radley facility that, for all we know, are still going on.
Luke pulls me onto his lap and holds me close. “What do you need from me?”
Sighing, I sink into his embrace. A single tear trails down my face. I don’t bother wiping it away. “I need answers. My mom is gone, and she was part of this whole twisted web. Now it’s taken Kenzi from me too. I’m sick and tired of people ripping my moms from me!”
“Then we’ll untwist everything until we have every scrap of information there is. We won’t stop until we’ve found every answer and brought her home, sane and happy.”
I turn to meet his gaze, his eyes so close our noses nearly bump. “It could be dangerous. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt. Your dad is focused on Kenzi and Fenna, Billa’s focused on her own mystery, and the others all have their own stuff they’re dealing with. You need someone taking care of you, and I’ll be damned if anyone’s going to stop me from being that person.”
My heart swells with love. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” He kisses me deeply, threading his fingers through mine, and a warm wave of hope swirls through me.
Maybe we really can figure this all out together.
8
Billa
Journals and loose papers fill my entire living room in the cottage. Ryker left hours ago to go to work, though I think he was eager to leave. The writings and drawings I made when I was young didn’t affect him the way they bothered me. He didn’t see the connection between all of this and the mysteries at the mental hospital.
That’s fine. I don’t need him, anyway. Not now that I have what I need.
Though I do need to keep an eye on the time. I still have my night shift at Radley, and after reading through my old journals, I have a renewed vigor to find answers.
The scrawlings I don’t remember writing read more like bad Harry Potter fan fiction than anything that could’ve actually happened at Radley. That’s also why I don’t hold Ryker’s boredom against him. If these entries didn’t pertain to a period from my own life, I might have the same reaction.
But at the same time, I know there’s more to it than just a silly story. This is a message to myself, telling a story that’s meant to jog memories. I’m just not sure how to unlock what I can’t recall.
I’m missing a vital component, and the answer must be here somewhere. Surely I left myself a clue.
Maybe I’m putting too much faith in my nine-year-old self, especially given I was potentially hypnotized or drugged by a psychopath.
Except those memories are in my mind somewhere. It’s just a matter of finding them and dusting them off.
I glance at the clock. About an hour before I need to leave for my shift. That gives me plenty of time to figure something out, so I gather my mess and make piles from the drawings and loose journal entries.
