Page 123 of Stolen Omega

Taking a bite, I find out the candy isn’t chocolate. The bright shells don’t belong to M&M’s. They belong to Skittles. And I’ve tasted these weird cookies before.

A flash of a smile comes back to me. A bright grin from a boy with vibrant green eyes.

I laughed the first time I tasted these, and I ate one whole cookie even if it was awful.

“His mom kept the M&M’s in the same kind of container as the Skittles.”

I say it out loud, hoping I’ll remember more.

When I don’t, I get up and open the cupboard where I’m sure the containers will be.

There they are, and they look so alike it’s easy to see why a kid might mix them up.

I go back to the table with the M&M’s and eat a few before I look at the photos.

They taste so damn good. I don’t know how long it’s been since I had them, but I know they were a favorite from this weird period of my childhood that I’m just starting to remember.

The photos feel vaguely familiar, but it takes a few minutes to realize the girl in the first one is me.

I think I’m the same age in this that I was when I was kidnapped. I’m wearing a denim dress and pink barrettes, and I’m smiling like I mean it.

The next picture is of a younger kid. Blond hair, shy demeanor. I remember the way he used to smile and shrug at everything, even if I can’t remember who he is.

The next couple pictures are of me again.

Then, there’s one of me with two boys, the shy blond and the one with the wide grin. I can’t tell his eyes are green in this picture, but I’m certain they are. He has dark hair and he’s slightly older than us.

“Who are they?” I ask the empty room, wondering why my memories are so tattered.

Little flickers come back to me. Words spoken. Smiles given. Happy, carefree feelings.

These guys were important to me once, but I don’t know them now.

I put the photo down on the table in front of me and I pick up one of the horrible cookies.

There’s only one way to find out if these awful things have more to tell me about my past.

I take a bite and keep going. I want to know who made them, and I’m going to find out.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Dale

The room Zane brings me to is obviously a security room. There are monitors covering one wall, with a table and chair in front of them. There’s an open notepad and a few pens that have had their caps chewed to hell on the table, but there’s not much else in the room.

“What is this?” I ask him, as my gaze starts to move over the screens.

There are cameras poolside, on the beach, in the reception and the kitchen. They’re everywhere.

“All of this might seem like some crazy half-baked idea,” he starts, making me groan.

“Don’t try to tell me it’s not crazy,” I cut in, waving at the bank of screens. “This isn’t normal.”

“It’s necessary,” he insists. “I know what happened to Zoey when she was taken, and I need to explain all of that so you can understand why I had to do things the way I did.”

He sounds so earnest. I don’t like the idea of hearing out an insane theory that I already know I’m not going to believe, but I feel like I need to give him this. If only because it’ll make it a little easier to try and make him see sense once I know why he’s so dead set on the idea that Zelena is the friend we lost when we were kids.

“I’m listening,” I tell him.

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