Chapter 1
Sometimes change is infinitesimal, slow. You don’t notice its icy fingers wrapped around your throat, stealing your breath, your beliefs, changing who you are until you don’t recognize yourself. I was in the middle of such a change before the accident. The slow erosion of myself, into nothing.
I hadn’t been behind the wheel in two years, not since the accident. I didn’t like to be reminded of those dark days. Few career women in their early thirties don’t drive, but walking kept me from another harrowing driving experience. Plus, I’d discovered that I enjoyed the fresh air and exercise.
I crossed the Museum lobby and nodded to the recent hires at the Information Desk, though I’d never spoken to any of their fresh, youthful faces. I stepped into an empty elevator, heading up to the peace of my office and lab.
“Hold the elevator,” came the call from across the lobby.
I ignored the request. Christopher, the conservator of our museum, raced toward the closing door, shoved his arm inside, and slid in beside me. I rolled my eyes. I’d almost escaped, but hadn’t been fast enough. Trapped beside him, his heat radiated toward me and I scooched sideways. He wore running clothes and his dark, wavy hair dripped with sweat. His muscles looked hard, the kind only dedicated athletes or gym rats achieved. I hoped he planned to shower before work.
“Hey, Lizzie.” He smiled, the dimple appearing in his cheek.
My teeth ached with the effort as I maintained a neutral expression. I was not, nor had I ever been, a Lizzie. I hated that nickname. My name was Elizabeth, which suited me—serious, classic, and a little stand-offish. The latter may not have suited me when I was younger, but it did now. I’d been burned too many times to let people get close to me. Life had been filled with harsh lessons.
I nodded to be polite. Being around Christopher was a constant struggle to maintain professionalism. What I really wanted to do was yell, “Leave me alone. I don’t need anyone.” More than anyone else, he brought out the worst in me. Why wouldn’t he take a hint and leave me alone?
“Cat got your tongue again?” He leaned across me and pressed the button for his floor. “My magnificent presence has once again rendered you speechless.” He winked.
The elevator ride lasted an eternity. How long did it take to get to the fourth floor?
He smirked.
I raised one eyebrow, but he knew I wouldn’t respond. Even before I stopped talking, I hadn’t spoken to him. Not since his brother Brandon had disappeared without a word of explanation. Why start now?
“Oh, Christopher.”
His mincing tone meant to mimic my voice as he clutched his hands to his chest, caving in his broad shoulders in an attempt to appear feminine.
“You’re so handsome and strong.” He batted the long dark lashes that fringed his ice-blue eyes. “I’d love to meet with you after work. I don’t want to be around anyone, but I find your magnetic charm irresistible.”
I cast a withering glance in his direction. Other women fawned over him. He’d probably been told those exact words last week. He could have been charming if he wasn’t loud and annoying. Half the time, what came out of his mouth was so full of expletives that I had to filter them out in order to listen. If I spoke, I couldn’t imagine it would be to him. He’d never told me anything I wanted to know, like where the hell his brother had gone. Not that I’d asked. I’d been too proud.
Our colleagues at the museum left me alone. They were content to send me emails and receive answers the same way. But not Christopher. Christopher intruded upon the peaceful setting of my office and harassed me for details in person. He was the only person in my professional life who cared that I couldn’t speak. His ridiculous remarks seemed designed to elicit a response, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’ll see you later, Lizzie. I have a couple of questions about the new shipment from the Middle East, and something personal.” He stepped off on the fourth floor. “I’ll come chat after I’ve showered.”
I gritted my teeth. I couldn’t wait.
His tall frame strode from the elevator and he turned to blow me a kiss. Why hadn’t I reported his outrageous behavior to HR? I didn’t want him to know I’d enjoyed his attempt, though after he was gone, I allowed myself an amused smile. I continued to the sixth floor where my office and lab were located. Maybe I should install a punching bag in the corner and bring workout clothes. It might help after encounters with Christopher. I could work on my left-right-knee-roundhouse combinations.
I couldn’t wait to get to the lab that had become my sanctuary. The lab access was through my office. One side of the room had a custom-designed, painted chart of the most recent theory of human evolution. The tree-like diagram of the origins of the human race and their relatives took an entire wall. Seeing it made me smile because it reminded me of the part of my life over which I had control.
They’d hired me fresh from grad school, where I’d received my PhD in Paleoanthropology, and three summers of co-op jobs at the Smithsonian. My job was to create and maintain a display at the brand-new museum here in Portland, meant to one day rival the famous exhibits at the Smithsonian in Washington, DC, or the American Museum of Natural History in New York City.
Scientists used to think Neanderthals in Europe and the Middle East had died out, replaced by more advanced, modern humans moving out from Africa in a single wave.
Now, scientists acknowledged that multiple waves of anatomically modern humans had interbred with Neanderthals and older populations of early humans in several parts of the world. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. Anyone who’d seen certain hockey players in the eighties could have recognized a Neanderthal brow ridge. Who knew what DNA lurked within the human species, waiting for selective pressure to force the next wave of evolution? Part of my job was to bring these modern ideas into the new exhibits.
Once I would have discussed these ideas with my boyfriend Brandon over tea in my office after work or over dinner at the cozy restaurants with good food that he always seemed to locate. Or I would have chatted online with my friend Jeff. We’d been close in grad school, but my job was here and he was across the country, in New York. It had been easy to drift apart, through geography and circumstance. The biggest factor in my lost friendship had been my husband, Eric.
It was hard to maintain a long-distance friendship with someone you weren’t allowed to see or talk to. I missed sitting and talking about men and movies. We’d had almost the same taste in both, but now it had been years since Jeff and I had a conversation. The gulf had become too immense to bridge. Without a friend, I talked to myself or to my cat. Ember didn’t mind, she just purred. Now she was the only one to hear my voice.
After the accident, I hadn’t set out not to talk. I just had nothing to say. I’d become lost in my thoughts, trying to cope with my snarled mess of feelings. Then I didn’t want to speak. It took months before I realized I couldn’t anymore. It had been two years, and I still hadn’t spoken in the presence of another person. I hadn’t been injured, but the trauma had inhibited my voice. It infuriated my therapist, Dr. Maeve Fossey. We’d been unable to find a solution. We were scheduled for another fruitless appointment tomorrow. She talks. I type.
I read my emails and replied to everything that needed attention. It took an hour, but it would ensure uninterrupted peace afterward. In my office, I was accessible, but in the lab, everyone recognized I was unavailable. Barring an emergency, everyone would leave me alone. HittingSendon the final message, there was a knock at the door. Before I could escape, Christopher barged inside. He’d changed into dark blue jeans and a t-shirt, his work uniform unless he was meeting with the Board, which was the only time he wore a suit and tie.
“Lizzie, perfect.” He closed the door and the room shrank. His big personality stole most of the limited space. “Glad I caught you. Downstairs took longer than expected because there was a problem with a water leak in the Modern Technology display. I expected you would have escaped by now.”
