It wasn’t an ink stain but a tattoo, one that didn’t even look recent. Her skin wasn’t puffy or red; there was no bandage or pain that would have alerted her to its existence. There was only black text, a single word with a backward capitalEin the center of it, permanently scrawled in her own handwriting:
Rem?mber.
8
Ellory left the bathroom in a daze, shrouded not in numbness but in triumph. Her fingers traced the lines of the tattoo—or where she guessed the lines were, as her skin felt smooth to the touch beneath her tangled hair. Part of her wanted to stay in that hallway, studying the impossible from every angle, but the rest of her was energized. Finally, she had more than feelings without facts. How could she have forgottengetting a tattoo, let alone one in her own handwriting? Something was wrong with her memories, and this was tangible proof. Tangible and terrific and terrifying.
“—if you can believe it!”
Ellory jumped as laughter echoed down the long corridor, reminding her that there were other people in the world. Sterling-silver utensils clinked against porcelain plates. Muffled conversation fused individual voices. She turned toward the foyer, freeing her coat from the hall closet before freeing herself from the house. Outside, an argent moon stared her down, half hidden by the smudged shadows of the surrounding trees.
The chill wind kept her grounded, focused. Without the autumn cold slicing bladed air into every gap between her coat collar and bare skin, her mind would have been stuck in that incredulous moment—a moment that already felt like it was slipping away the longer it took her Uber driver to arrive. She flipped between the photo and the app, the app and the photo,Rem?mberandYour driver is 5 minutes away. Neither felt real.
“Morgan, what the hell are you doing?” Hudson Graves stood in the doorway, one hand struggling into the sleeve of his peacoat and the other resting on the skull door knocker. “You’ve chosen a fine time to get some air.”
Ellory looked back at her phone. “I’m going to campus.”
“What? Why?”
For a moment, she considered telling him—about the tattoo and about the peculiarity of her school year, her expanding document of notes at the dorm, and her rising sense that something was not right with her head. But they were not friends just because he had finally buttoned up his coat and was now joining her on the gravel, his face tight with concern. They were not friends just because he had noticed her being missing from the salon within minutes. This night held them as close as a secret, but the sun would soon rise to illuminate the truth: She and Hudson Graves wouldneverbe friends.
“Tell Professor Colt I wasn’t feeling well,” she said. The Uber had missed the turn up the drive and was now looping around the massive block. “I’d love to come next month if he’ll have me.”
“Morgan, you can’t—” Ellory watched him visibly think better of telling her what she could and could not do. “Please come inside. I know this group is…a lot, but I promise you’re meant to be here.”
There was a gravity to the way he said it that made her pause. Darkness painted the fiery fall foliage in black and gray, making the trees appear like monsters circling their prey. Hudson, too, seemed monstrous by moonlight, the pewter rays making the angles of his face more severe. His eyes were in shadow, his lustrous mouth set in a familiar frown. The wind swirled around them, toying with the ends of her curls, the tops of her ears, the unprotected line of her chin. It was as if they existed in a world divorced from reality.
Meanwhile, her Uber circled and circled and circled the block, getting no closer to whisking her away. She would have to walk down the drive to meet the car, navigating the thick gloom of a yard that was, by now, as dark as a tomb. There would be nothing but the watery light of her phone, nothing but the slide of her shoes through the grass, nothing but the puffs of her breath and the hope that there was a driver waiting for her at the end of a too-long walk. She’d seen far too many horror movies with a scene like that.
Ellory canceled the car.
“Fine,” she said, putting her phone back into her pocket. “But only because these people waste so much food, it physically pains me.”
Hudson’s lips twitched into something resembling a smile. “Shall I get you a to-go box?”
“Shut up,” Ellory muttered, sliding past him. The salon waited, and the house would be a welcome haven from the crisp breeze.
His hand curled around her forearm, then slid down before she could take another step.
Ellory was so surprised by the contact that she allowed it. His fingers were soft when they settled at her wrist, loose enough for her to pull free if she wanted to. His thumb traced the fragile lines of her veins. She still wasn’t used to being this near to him or tothe electric charge that his touch incited across her nerve endings, shocking and grounding all at once. Her mind told her to step away, but her body swayed closer to him, weak to his gravitational pull. In turn, he bent toward her like a flower to the sun, his dark eyes open and searching. Sometimes, they were compulsively intersecting lines, but other times, times like right now, they were a tangled knot whose interwoven threads were impossible to unravel.
“Thank you,” he said, “for coming.”
“Thank you,” she replied, “for inviting me.”
Behind Hudson, the front door opened. He dropped her hand as if her skin were suddenly slicked with acid. Professor Colt squinted at them in the halo of the porch light. He held a silver lighter in one hand and a cigarette between his lips. The look on his face made Ellory’s cheeks heat, even though there was nothing going on but a temporary ceasefire. “We’ll be having after-dinner drinks in the study soon. Will you be joining us?”
Hudson’s moon-kissed face was turned away, so it was Ellory who answered, “Yes.”
“In you go, then.”
Colt stepped out onto the gravel. The flame of his lighter glowed like a firefly against the night, there and gone. By the time Ellory dragged her eyes away, Hudson had disappeared into the house, leaving her with the sense that she’d lost something vital.
***
Stasie was awake when Ellory returned to the residence hall, and for the first time, that was a blessing. Tai hadn’t responded to repeated knocks or curses at her door; instead, her answering text was delayedby fifteen minutes and had apparently been sent from Cody’s bed. Ellory loved romance as much as the next single person, but her friends had chosen theworstpossible time to get laid.
With no other options, she changed into her pajamas with her back to her roommate, trying to think of the best way to broach the subject of a mysterious tattoo without sounding like she needed to visit the Student Health Center. She had a complicated relationship with therapy, something her aunt believed in even less than she believed in community college.Those pills aren’t natural, Carol always said.If you’re feeling bad, you can always come home. That will set you right.Added to the fact that Ellory couldn’t afford it without the guaranteed health insurance of a full-time job—if even then—and it all meant that therapy was a stigmatized luxury she’d always gone without. No matter how badly she might have needed it.
