Page 25 of If She Only Knew (The Cahills 1)

“And you sent Cissy down for soda. Sprite?”

“That’s right. We did once,” Alex agreed, smiling, though from Nick’s perspective, the grin seemed strained and out of place. “We thought you were in a coma, that you couldn’t hear us.”

Eugenia fiddled with the clasp of her purse, and before she offered up a cheery grin, the corners of her mouth turned down for just a second, just the way they did when she was perturbed. “So, you could hear us. Why didn’t you respond?”

“I tried. But it was impossible.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“But I can’t remember anything else, not the accident, not . . . anything.” Still holding Alex’s hand, she turned to look at Cissy, who rolled her eyes theatrically. She sent her father a look that said more effectively than words, Can we just go now? Nick didn’t blame the kid.

Alex didn’t take the hint. He leaned closer to his wife and said, “Now, listen, honey, even if you can’t remember much—”

“No, it’s not that I can’t remember much, Alex,” Marla cut in, her tongue tripping over his name, “I don’t remember anything about my life, though other things—general things are fairly clear. But my parents, my birthday, if I have brothers and sisters, or—”

“You mean you don’t remember us?” Cissy asked, suddenly getting it.

Marla didn’t reply.

“This is temporary,” Alex cut in.

“It had better be.” Marla turned her eyes to her husband as if seeking answers, and Nick’s gut clenched. “I’m sorry about all this . . . trouble and Pam . . . oh, God, I feel awful that she died.”

“You remember her?”

“No,” she whispered, struggling not to break down. “I . . . don’t recall the accident . . .” Her voice strangled as she tried and failed to control herself.

“You’ll be better soon,” Eugenia said.

Marla turned to face her mother-in-law. “Promise?”

“No, but—”

“Then don’t give me any platitudes, all right. I have to get out of here, to do something. I need to talk to Pamela’s family. I want to remember all of you.”

Cissy blinked hard and sniffed, then turned away as if embarrassed.

Nick wanted to think that for some unnamed reason Marla was playing a game with them all, but she seemed incredibly sincere. He wouldn’t have believed it of her, of being capable of caring for anyone but herself, but then maybe she’d changed. Maybe when she’d lost her memory, she’d lost her manipulative edge.

Or else she was faking them out.

Alex grabbed his wife’s hand. “Why don’t you try to get some rest?”

“I will, but I have so many questions. What about my family? Where are they?” she asked. “My parents? My siblings? I must have someone? Do they live nearby or far away?”

“Oh, honey,” Alex said, sidestepping the questions. “There’s so much to tell you, but now isn’t the time.”

“Why?” she asked, her voice low. She seemed to steel herself. “Are they all dead?”

“No, no . . . just your mother, but your father isn’t well.”

“Oh.” Confusion crossed her features. Sorrow. Grief.

“We’ll discuss it all, go through pictures, visit your dad, anything you want. But not until you’re home and well, okay?”

She didn’t answer but seemed to shrink a little in the bed, become smaller. Insanely, Nick wanted to comfort her and tell her everything would be all right; but he reminded himself of his place. And this was Marla they were dealing with, she could handle herself. If not, she had a husband to do the honors.

It was time to end this agony. “Look, I’ll be shovin’ off,” he said to Alex and hazarded one last glance at the woman in the bed before striding out of the room. Away from his family. And Marla. God, he needed to get away from her.

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