Charlie kissed me once, hard and devastating. Then he pulled me through the door, back into that awful room to do the thing that could take him away from me forever.
It could also save my friend from a murder conviction.
I didn’t have room anymore to even hope for the best in either scenario. I just wanted it to never happen, and to already be over, all at once.
Still in the recliner, Viola and Sunshine were where we’d left them. Unfortunately, so was the sweat imprint of my ass and thighs on the sofa cover, which made it less sticky and more slippery when I sat back down.
Of all the tragedy today had wrought, that might’ve been the final fucking straw.
Charlie sat next to me on the squeaky couch, with his back straight, shoulders squared. “I’m ready. I want to remember.”
I’m not ready, I thought selfishly.
“Alright,” she said, voice soft. “I’m going to take you through a few calming exercises first, before we attempt to access those memories.”
She reached for a small remote and pointed it at a wireless speaker sitting on the table next to Charlie.
The soft pattering of rain began to play, accompanied by the slow, quiet musical cords I imagined one would find in a massage parlor.
“Close your eyes,” she said, “and breathe. Inhale,” she acted out her instructions along with Charlie, “and exhale.”
He did as she asked, stoic and dutiful in his mission, until a peacock cried out over the sound of the rain. His eyes popped open, looking around with concern. “What was that?”
“Just the music, dear. Focus on your breathing.”
If I felt less like the world was ending, I’d have commented that being lost in a jungle seemed like the complete opposite ofrelaxation. As it were, I could only concede this psychic, new-age bullshit was the appropriate soundtrack for the worst day of my life.
Once the breathing was done, she began coaching Charlie to visualize his mind and where those memories were stored.
I glanced at Tate, who stared at his feet, avoiding eye contact in a way that felt intentional to prevent us both from bursting into crazed, hysterical laughter.
“Now, find the day you wish to remember. Where were you when you woke up?”
“I was in the lookout,” Charlie answered, eyes closed and voice distant. “It had rained the night before, and the air was humid. I went to open the windows for a cross breeze, but… Someone was there. Someone was walking up to the lookout.”
Tate looked up, eyes narrowed. My attention honed in on Charlie’s words.
“He introduced himself as a police officer investigating the disappearances,” Charlie continued. “Ted? Ned? I can’t remember his name. He was nice. Polite. He asked if I’d seen anything unusual in the last few days, and if he could see my observation logs. He said he had to stop off at the ranger station on his way back anyway, so he’d drop them off for me.”
His fingers twitched where they rested on his lap.
“And then what?” Viola prompted.
“I was preparing to go to bed, but I hadn’t even finished taking my boots off yet. Something outside caught my eye.”
“What did you see, Charlie?” she asked quietly.
His eyes darted behind his eyelids, and his breathing picked up. “I saw something through the window, down below. Someone’s out there, with a flashlight. I think they need help.”
He began to flicker and tremble. I grabbed for his hand on instinct, and he clutched my fingers close, body solidifying again.
Now that I knew what was happening, I could feel his presence, his energy,gently tugging on my own. He wasn’t demanding or too much. It was more like a request, maybe?
Like someone holding out their hands over an open flame, he soaked in the warmth I freely gave him. If only I could convincehim I’d happily burn for him for as long as he needed; I’d burn for him forever.
“I’m down there now, by the trees. I call out to them, but they aren’t responding. Why do they keep getting further away?”
His tone shifted. “I ju—ant to make sure you—okay!” he called out, voice echoing through time as if he were actually speaking with them, all those years ago.
