Legacy (Keeper of the Lost Cities #8) - Shannon Messenger Page 0,105

higher and squeakier as she said, “Hey there, Miss Sophie. Who wants to play?”

And just like that, Sophie was seven years old again, making Bun-Bun talk to Amy the exact same way.

Amy cleared her throat, pulling Bun-Bun back and staring into his shiny black eyes. “I didn’t say it enough, but… you were a good sister. Still are, even if we don’t get to see each other. I always know you’re out there, taking risks I wish you wouldn’t take. Being Miss Superhero Elf.”

“Ha, I’m so not a superhero,” Sophie corrected, focusing on the joke so she wouldn’t get all teary again.

“Please—you even wear a cape!” Amy teased back. Her smile faded just as fast, though. “Promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Especially with whatever choice he’s going to have you make.”

Sophie choked down a lump in her throat. “Only if you promise that if your missing memory turns out to be more traumatic than you were expecting, you’ll ask Mr. Forkle to erase it again.”

“I’m not going to need that,” Amy argued.

“Promise me anyway,” Sophie pressed.

Amy rolled her eyes. “Fiiiiiiiiiiine. I promise. Ugh. So bossy.”

They shared a smile—but it felt both happy and sad. And Amy broke eye contact first, shifting back to studying Bun-Bun.

“Remember the song you made up for him?” she asked. “And the little hoppy dance?”

“Please demonstrate both,” Sandor jumped in. “Along with anything else that would make good blackmail.”

“Another day,” Mr. Forkle said, peeking through the curtains of the nearest window, probably checking for signs of Sophie’s human parents. “We can’t afford to waste any more time. Are you two finally ready?”

“I am,” Amy said immediately.

Sophie chewed her lip, taking another look around Amy’s bedroom.

Nothing made the gap between their lives feel wider.

The room wasn’t small—but it was nothing like Sophie’s enormous suite at Havenfield. And it wasn’t plain, but the painted blue walls and scuffed wood floors definitely weren’t the same as a glass ceiling strung with dangling crystal stars, or flowers woven into the carpet, or windows with sweeping ocean views. The twin bed looked like a shoebox compared to Sophie’s sprawling canopied bed, and the closet could probably only fit about one tenth of Sophie’s clothes and shoes.

And yet, Amy’s room had all the tiny personal touches that Sophie was still struggling to add to hers.

The saddest part was, Sophie didn’t recognize any of those additions.

Aside from Bun-Bun, all the stuffed animals and knickknacks were new. And the smiling friends in the photographs were all strangers. Sophie had also never heard of the boy band that Amy had lots of pictures and posters of on her door—though their hairstyles reminded her a little of Tam’s.

And something about that distance between them made her whisper, “Please don’t hate me for whatever happened that day, okay?”

Amy pulled her closer, offering her Bun-Bun to hug. “You don’t have to worry about that, Sophie. I loved you even when I didn’t remember who you were. I’d get this weird ache sometimes, right here.” She pressed her fist against her chest. “I didn’t know how to explain it, but it felt like… something was missing. And then you showed up and my memories triggered and it was like, ‘Ohhhhhh, this is what I was looking for.’ That’s why I don’t want any more gaps in my past. I just want to know my life is complete again, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” Mr. Forkle assured her, his voice a bit thick. “And it’s a very mature reason for doing this.”

Sophie knew why he was emphasizing the word—and hated him for having a point.

Amy wasn’t the bratty little nine-year-old that Sophie had left behind when she moved to the Lost Cities. Nor was she the terrified six-year-old begging Sophie to stop whatever she was doing.

She was a girl who’d watched her parents get abducted and managed to stay clearheaded enough to keep herself hidden from the Neverseen.

A girl who’d learned that everything she’d been told about her life—and the world—wasn’t real, and then had to spend months hiding with strangers in a secret underwater city while she worried every day about the people she loved.

And now she was a girl who’d chosen to lie to everyone in order to keep the secrets she’d learned about her past and the Lost Cities.

If memories meant that much to her, she probably could handle this.

So Sophie took Bun-Bun and slowly lay down next to Amy on the narrow twin bed.

Amy lay back beside her, and Sophie wedged Bun-Bun between them.

“Are you