book shut and stared at the ceiling again. I had no idea what I was meant to do next, how I was meant to transition back into this life that seemed so foreign to me now. I made a note to go and call on Eugene Bester soon, when I had caught up on all my work, my neighbor who’d filed the missing person report, and clearly my only friend in the entire world. I rolled over onto my side, clutching the book until I finally fell asleep.
And so it went like that for another day, and another day. Work. Home. Chicken. Alone. (Think of Noah.)
But on the fourth night back, when a feeling of utter restlessness had me cleaning an already spotless apartment until two in the morning, I found two things. The first was Andi the psychic’s number, which I’d scribbled onto my list that I’d ripped up, and the second was another number crunched and tossed into the wastepaper bin. I pulled it out and the address made the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. This was from the building where I’d had the accident! That is why I was there.
VAST INVEST FINANCIAL SERVICES AND WEALTH PLANNING.
Why would I have been there?
I turned the card over in my hand, and there it was. A scribbled note for a meeting with Johan Visser an hour before my accident.
CHAPTER 36
I went into work before anyone else was there and phoned Johan. He’d sounded so thrilled to hear from me, the first and only person who’d sounded happy to hear from Zenobia. I’d asked for a meeting and he’d said he would shuffle his day around for me. For me? He was more excited that I’d called than my parents were. They hadn’t even noticed I was missing. Apparently, we only spoke “every so often.” They’d been shocked and upset by the accident, and had offered to come to Joburg and help me, but I’d said no. I got the feeling our relationship was strained, but I didn’t really know why either.
I caught a taxi to Vast Investments, and when I arrived, like the last time, nothing about this place looked familiar. The accident, and my childhood, all those years before the age of nineteen, were still a blur to me, and no matter how far or hard I reached inside my head I wasn’t able to access any of it. It was strange how my mind was cherry-picking the things it wanted to remember, and the things it wanted to forget. There was no logic to the way it was organizing my memories, it was completely out of my control.
I walked into the building again, but this time Noah wasn’t with me. I walked past the coffee shop, the bank and then past the bookstore and . . .
I stopped when the table display caught my eye. The Heart is Just a Muscle. Becca Thorne. The books were adorned with big red stickers that read “Signed Copies.” Maybe I should buy one and read it, since for some strange reason I kept bumping into it. I walked a little more, past another shop, a small art gallery and then a pharmacy. Something caught my eye there too. “Frankie’s Fitness Protein Shake.” That was what Maxine drank, and I suddenly found myself thinking about poor Frankie and where she was, and Kyle and how he looked like he didn’t care she was gone. He looked like he cared more about his calves than the fact his ex was missing. I felt a sudden kinship with her. People hadn’t seemed to care that I was missing either. I walked right past the elevator this time and went straight for the staircase. I climbed the two floors and soon found myself standing outside the rather lavish-looking offices of Vast Investments. I walked the red carpet outside and pushed the big, gold doors open. A white marble floor gleamed up at me, shone as if it had been hand-polished with hundred-rand bills. I walked up to the reception and had to push my way past the huge bunches of white flowers in crystal vases to even find the receptionist. This place was so fancy and over the top, why the hell would I have a meeting here? I couldn’t be more different to this place than if I was . . .
“Zenobia.” I heard a voice and turned.
“Uh . . . Johan,” I said, looking at the man, whose face seemed