Prologue
Present Day
Elizabeth
They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes. You see a bright light and a warmth wraps around you. You feel at peace.
I wouldn’t know any of that.
Because I can’t remember a fucking thing.
But here I am in a place I don’t remember. A place that has been calling to me, beckoning to me like a Siren from Greek mythology. My only hope is that the outcome of being here is better than the fate of the Greek sailors who answered the Siren’s call only to be met by death. And if there is one thing that I’ve learned in the past thirteen months since waking up in a private facility in Seattle, Washington, it is that death doesn’t scare me. I’ve already died and come back to life. I had been in a coma for two months. Now, I’m a ghost that wanders aimlessly without a home. A boat that is splintered and fractured, barely afloat and at the mercy of a shifting, relentless tide.
My fingers touch the outside of my dark pink short-sleeved T-shirt, fingertips hovering over the raised scars along the side of my upper torso and waist. Knife wounds, I was told. Wounds that are now covered in a delicate pattern of butterflies; tattoos that were paid for by a nonprofit that helps trauma victims transform scars into something beautiful. Something to help ease the pain of what the scars represent. I asked the artist that did my ink to make the butterflies broken. Why? I have no idea. Just another unknown thing that called to me, like this place.
My eyes scan the buildings in front of me, the trees full of green summer leaves, the grass well-manicured and tended to. Several people are milling about or are taking a nap under one of the giant trees that surround the central quad.
Carolina University.
A place, where I’m told, I was supposed to start college last year as an incoming freshman. A place where I feel like I need to be but don’t know why. My therapist back in Seattle said this would be a good thing for me. Maybe a way to trigger a memory or some form of recognition. Drew and Daniel were a little more apprehensive about it. They didn’t want me to come here. They thought it was too soon. I disagreed. It was time. I need answers. Answers that no amount of additional psychotherapy, cognitive-behavior therapy, music therapy, hypnosis, or meditation could offer. I had done almost thirteen months of that shit on top of all the physical therapy I had to endure in order to regain strength and flexibility in muscles that had wasted away while I was in a coma. A coma which was the result of brain swelling caused by a head injury and severe blood loss. A coma that I came out of not knowing the first eighteen years of my life. A life that currently exists in fucking limbo. I take a moment to scoff at myself. It’s ridiculous that I can still remember how to play a piano and a guitar flawlessly or some random movie, but can’t remember people, places, or events. Why would the brain retain some arbitrary things but not the ones that truly matter?
I still don’t know exactly what happened to me. I know the where, but it’s a place I’m not ready to visit yet. I know I’ll have to at some point. I’ve been able to piece together most of the major events of the attack from online news articles, police interviews, police reports, and whatever Daniel and Drew were told. I know I was stabbed. I know my parents and sister were all gruesomely murdered. I know I was the only survivor. But those are just cold facts. I feel no connection to any of it. How can I not remember my family, the people who loved me and were closest to me? I look at their pictures and all I see are strangers. My questions revolve around the who and the why. Who the hell did this to me and my family and why? Was it a random home invasion? Were we targeted by someone? Why, why, why? It’s a fucking nightmare not knowing why.
I wonder if it’s time for me to go through the boxes that contain my past life. Before taking me to Seattle, Daniel had a company box up several things from my room. A room where I lived for eighteen years. Items that hold pieces of my life that no longer exist. A family that no longer exists. I’ve avoided everything from “BTA,” before the attack. I’m not ready to see it. I’m not ready to face it. But Daniel insisted that I bring the boxes with me. As soon as I brought them into the apartment, I shoved them all inside my bedroom closet. Maybe one day I’ll be more prepared to open them. But not today.
The ringing of my phone breaks me from my thoughts. “Hey, Daniel,” I answer once I see his name appear on my screen.
“Hey, sweetheart. Have you gotten unpacked and settled in yet?”
“The apartment is awesome. Thank you by the way. I promise I’ll repay you and Drew.”
“We’ve already discussed this, Elizabeth. We want to do these things for you, so please let us. I’m sorry we couldn’t come with you and help. I promise that as soon as things settle down here, I’ll make the trip myself.”
I think about everything Daniel and Drew have done for me. It still boggles my mind how I was lucky enough to be taken in and cared for by the both of them. They didn’t know me. They had never met me before. It just goes to show that there are really good fucking people in this world, not just the bad ones that do all the harm. The police searched for any living relative of my family’s that could step in as my guardian. I was in a coma and couldn’t make medical decisions for myself, not to mention the funeral arrangements and other legal decisions that pertained to my family. Daniel was my dad’s distant cousin. He and his husband Drew stepped up and immediately came to North Carolina when they heard what happened. He was the only one. Other than a couple of cousins scattered around the country, my family has no living relations. They took me back to Seattle where I stayed in an exclusive, private rehabilitation center paid for by them. Daniel and Drew are co-founders of D&D Tech, a global research and development company famous for its advancements in increased computer processing speeds and drone technology. To say that they are independently wealthy is an understatement.
“How is Drew today?” I ask Daniel.
That’s the reason they didn’t come with me to North Carolina. Right after they brought me to Seattle, Drew started getting sick. First it was constant headaches, then mood changes. Drew blew it off as stress. About a month after I woke up, Drew suffered a grand mal seizure. That’s when doctors found the tumor in his frontal lobe. Drew is a fighter, though. He’s so brave and strong and wonderful in the face of such a horrible disease. He never let the glioma stop him. That includes taking care of me. I think that’s one of the reasons I want to go to medical school now. I want to work in oncology and help people like Drew.
“Doing better. Today is one of his good days. Says he misses having you around. Let’s plan on videoing tonight so he can see you’re alright and safe. Have you checked in with Dr. Clairemont yet?”
I bite my bottom lip. I don’t want Daniel to be disappointed in me. One of the things he and Drew made me promise in order to attend CU was that I had to continue to see a therapist here.
“I promise I’ll make an appointment with Dr. Clairemont soon. I wanted to spend today touring the campus and seeing everything. Look at the medical school, the hospital. It’s gorgeous out here. Much different than Seattle. Much hotter too.”
“We worry about you, Elizabeth.”
“I’m safe. I’m on campus so there isn’t anything to worry about. And it’s not like you don’t know exactly where I am right now,” I reply.
Daniel knows that I know they have a tracking app on my phone. It’s a separate app not connected to my phone’s location sharing. My apartment is decked out with an over-the-top high-end alarm system they made the leasing company agree to. All thanks to them as well. Overprotective? Yes. But honestly, I couldn’t care less. I’m glad that someone cares about me. Other than Daniel and Drew, I don’t have anyone else. If I did, I don’t remember, and no one else has come forward or has tried to contact me. It makes me sad to think that I truly am alone in this world now.
“I need some independence, Daniel. You guys can’t keep me locked inside a gilded cage forever.” I chuckle. “I appreciate everything you both do for me. I really do. Right now, however, I need to carve a new life for myself. Get an education. Apply to medical school. Go out on an actual date. Do something fun and silly. All the normal things I should be wanting and looking forward to, memory or no memory. It’s past time I rejoined the world of the living.”
“We’re here for you, sweetheart. Never forget that.”
“I know.”
“Has the detective contacted you yet?”
