“I’m sure it was traumatic, finding you like that,” he tells me. “You know, she’s been here every single day that you have.”
“Shehas?” I look over at him.
“Stevie.” He comes over to sit on my bed, the whole mattress tilting under his weight as he scratches at his five o’clock shadow, which I rarely see. “What the hell were you doing at the Martins’?”
“Martin, as in… Martin’s Meats?” I picture the oversized warehouses and the herds of cattle off Route 58, which I pass on the bus ride to school every morning. But I’ve never seen them up close. Right?
I shrug. “I have no idea.”
“You were supposed to be at the coffee shop that day.”
“What? What coffee shop?” I ask, squinting at him.
He cocks his head and furrows his brow. “The one you’ve been working at over in Endover for like two years now?”
A chill crawls up my spine even as I huff out a confused laugh. “Dad, I’ve never worked at a coffee shop. And I’ve never been to the Martin farm. And I have no idea who that girl was at all.”
CHAPTER 6
STEVIE, YOU’VE SUFFERED A CRANIALfracture and significant bruising to the brain.” Dr. Reicher holds her tablet out to me the next morning. She points to a crack on the back left side of the 3-D image of my skull. “This type of cranial fracture, while serious, should continue to heal on its own with time. However, we did perform a ventriculostomy, which is a big word for saying that we inserted a temporary catheter into your skull to drain some of the fluid buildup and relieve some of the pressure on your brain. You’ll find a very small incision on your scalp, but the stitches should dissolve in about two weeks.”
My stomach turns as I picture a gaping hole in my head and fight the urge to touch my scalp, too scared of what I might feel up there.
She continues, “Unfortunately, with these injuries, we sometimes see cognitive effects in the form of retrograde amnesia, which is the loss of ability to recall events that happened prior to the onset of injury, like you seem to be experiencing now. Sometimes these memories can come back in the days or weeks following the injury, but I do want you to know that it is also possible the memory loss could be permanent.”
The room is starting to spin, but I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds and then force myself to focus on her voice.
“Now,usually, we see the loss of more recent memories, weeks, sometimes up to a few months prior. In your case, Stevie… it is so rare, but based on what your parents have gathered, you seem to be missing close to… two years.”
Two years.
It’s all I hear Dr. Reicher say before her voice is drowned out by a ringing in my ears. I just stare, watching her mouth form around words I can’t comprehend. My mom’s hand is on top of mine, but I can’t feel it, not really, because my whole body has gone numb.
It’s not possible.
Dr. Reicher crouches in front of me. I try to force myself back into the room. I think she’s asking me if I understand.
I nod my head up and down.
Understand?No, I don’t fucking understand, but I’ll do anything to get her to stop saying things I don’t want to hear.
Mom squeezes my hand until my fingertips turn purple, and Dad thanks the doctor before she leaves us alone in the room.
Nobody moves. Nobody speaks.
There’s a pressure building in my sinuses that makes me feel like my head is going to explode, which would probably be the very last thing it needs right now.
I have to get out of here. I can feel it all the way to my bones, this need to run. I throw my legs over the bed and push myself up onto them, but they’re too weak. My body gives out underneath me and I end up on my hands and knees, crawling.
Through the black spots strobing across my field of vision,I see a door ajar, yellow light escaping through the crack.
The bathroom.
Hands brush against my back, gently pull at my shoulders, but I shake them off and keep moving until I can close the door, leaving my parents on the other side.
I scooch into the corner and hug my knees into my chest, closing my eyes.
Remember. Remember.
