“Sorry?”
“I mean, good.” He shakes his head. “Not a witch. Just good.”
It feels like a thousand eels are slithering inside in my stomach. “Let’s see if we can get you fixed up.”
“What are those little cuties?” Stone asks as we pull up to Wadley Farms and a dozen piggycorns rush to the fence to greet us. “Are thosepiggycorns?”
“They are, indeed.”
Stone lifts the lambicorn’s front hoof and waves it. “Look, your little cousins are coming to meet you.”
I have really got to get his memory back. I almost like the old Stone better.
Almost.
Don’t hold me to that.
Cristina greets us at the door. “Stone, meet my friend Cristina.”
“How are you?” he asks. “I’d take your hand, but I’m holding this little guy.”
“He’s very cute,” Cristina admires.
“Isn’t he? Or she?” Stone frowns at me. “Does it have a name?”
“I don’t believe so.”
Is this really what we’re worried about right now when you have amnesia?
“Do you have any milk?” Stone asks as we step inside. Then he stops and gazes around the foyer. It’s a gorgeous space. The walls are painted a welcoming green with clean white trim. There’s a cozy waiting room and a mahogany reception desk constructed of old doors. The place smells like wisteria and cotton.
Stone whistles. “Nice. I love the design—it’s so sleek. Very posh. And the smell.” He snaps his head in Cristina’s direction. “This is a spa, right?” Before she can answer he adds, “I’ve been here before. The design feels familiar.”
“That’s because you know the designer.”
“I do?”
“Yes, you do,” I say, tugging his arm.
I’m not interested in explaining more—like, you know, telling Stone he has a brother. Once that can of worms opens, he’ll call Pane.
I’ll be immediately implicated. I’ll be fired. My life will implode. But hey, my mom will finally notice what I’m doing, because I’ll be front page news.
Stone nods in understanding, but his eyes are vacant. “Right. I know the designer.”
Cristina grimaces, and I shrug like,Yes, this is the level of amnesia we’re dealing with. We’d better fix him, and fast.
She points to the kitchen. “You’ll find milk in the fridge. Feel free to give that little fella whatever you need.”
The lambicorn bleats as Stone walks off.
“We’re going to prison,” she whispers once he can’t hear us. “Or worse—someone will disappear us.”
“I know.” I cringe. “This is so bad.”
She stares at me like,Duh.“So?”
“So . . . what?”
