He rolled his eyes. “I will pack. Tomorrow.”
Grace flipped open the top page to find a picture of herself, about seven years ago, smiling next to Brian with a cake in front of her. “My birthday?”
“Yeah,” Brian said. “I brought you here and had a cake waiting. I gave you a bracelet.”
She had no idea where that bracelet was, darn it. “Who took all of these pictures?” There were some cute ones, but they were obviously taken by amateurs.
“Different people,” he said, reaching for another taco. “You always were a snob about phone shots, but I liked the pictures.”
She grinned. “Fair enough.” She flipped through, seeing photographs of them with other people, all smiling. “You’re not in here, Bobbi.”
“Nope.” Bobbi took a healthy drink of her blended margarita. “The three of us didn’t hang out. We were from different parts of your life, until you got hurt. If you want, we can check out our new house tomorrow, and I can dig through boxes for some pictures I have of us.”
A waiter brought over three cupcakes with sparklers.
Bobbi laughed. “You have to remember these. Blow yours out.”
Grace’s stomach lurched. She’d been up for too many hours, and her limbs were becoming heavy. She blew, having to try twice to extinguish the flames.
Bobbi leaned toward her. “I hope you made a wish.” She closed her eyes, took a moment, and then blew hard. Sparks flew around and dust from the sparkler settled across the table as it was extinguished.
Grace sucked in air and coughed.
“Sorry.” Bobbi opened her eyes and plucked her sparkler free, reaching for the cupcake to eat. “I wished for you to remember.”
Brian blew on his sparkler, scattering even more of the dark dust. “Me too.” His phone chirped a cheerful tune about mermaids, and he lifted it to his ear. “Brian Banks,” he said, licking frosting off his fingers. He listened for a moment. “I’m only a few blocks away. I can be there in a couple of minutes.” He clicked off and leaned over to kiss Bobbi on the cheek. “We just got a counter-offer on the Samuelson property. A good one. I have to head to the office, I’ll grab an Uber home.” He stood and winked at Grace. “Maybe tomorrow we should go skating.”
She smiled and nodded, her jaw beginning to ache. A migraine was on the way, and though that wasn’t unusual, she didn’t even have aspirin. “Sounds good.” She’d be long gone by morning. The day hadn’t revealed anything new, but maybe Brian was right, and her subconscious would go to work now.
Either way, she had to leave before endangering the friends she wished she remembered.
Brian left, paying the waiter on the way out. That was nice of him.
Bobbi finished her drink. “I guess it’s just us girls, like old times.”
The room went dark. Grace grew still. She hated it when that happened.
“Grace? Are you okay?” Bobbi’s voice came from far away.
“Yes,” she slurred. “A migraine is coming. Just a second.” She wavered but held strong, and soon the wave passed. “Sorry. That happens sometimes.” Her vision cleared, and Adare stood in the doorway. She blinked as he walked inside. He had to be a hallucination.
His gaze caught hers, and the fury in his eyes was a physical burn. Crap. He was real.
He strode toward her, and people at nearby tables paused in conversation to watch him, their eyes wide. A waitress actually licked her lips. He reached their table.
Grace had the oddest urge to laugh. “Adare? This is my friend, Bobbi. Bobbi, this is my, ah, boyfriend? Yeah. I guess. His name is Adare.” The darkness pressed in from every direction, and she closed her eyes, letting it take her. “I think we’re gonna have to see the queen sooner rather than later.”
Then, blissful nothingness surrounded her, taking away the pain along with everything else as she passed out completely.
Chapter 17
After a rushed two-hour flight from Denver to Realm Headquarters in northern Idaho, Adare was about to lose his mind. Grace hadn’t awakened. It had been three hours, and she was still out. She looked pale and fragile on the examination table—which was more of a plush bed—in the infirmary of Realm headquarters. He cleared his throat. “Queen Kayrs? Shouldn’t we do something?”
“Emma. For Pete’s sake, call me Emma.” The queen turned from the granite counter and a series of medical records that she’d requested about Grace. “She’s seen quite a few Realm doctors, and the records are fairly complete.”
What? Grace had been seeing multiple doctors and hadn’t said anything? Adare crossed his arms.
The queen nodded, looking very unqueen-like in ripped jeans, ratty tennis shoes, and a T-shirt with Sheldon Cooper on it saying his mother had him tested. Her black hair was smoothed back in a ponytail and her deep blue eyes were serious. An intricate golden cuff encircled her left wrist, and she kept fiddling with the heavy-looking metal. “I’ve taken blood already, and we’ll have those results soon.” She waved her hand toward a bunch of spinning medical instruments on the far wall. “She’s really been out for three hours?”
