bad, something really bad had to have happened to bring us to this point. From the devastating expression Wes gives me, I think I’m the cause for all the bad things.
Did the bad happen all at once? Or was it a slow decline? Was Sinclair part of the bad? My first instinct is to say no, but I can’t count anything out.
“Just tell me what happened to us,” I whisper.
Wes shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
I drop my face into my hands and fight the urge to scream out my frustrations.
“Why?” I finally ask.
I lift my head and find Wes staring at me. The sincerity dissolves and turns into agitation. “Ask Sinclair.”
My shoulders instantly stiffen.
Wes laughs bitterly. “What? You didn’t think I’d find out he visited you?”
I didn’t reply.
“I’ve known all about him.”
“Tell me. You know I don’t remember.”
Wes jumps up, towering over me. I take a step back. “If you’re dying to know, ask him.” He laughs at my shock, but it’s forced, as though he’s doing everything in his power not to let his pain show.
Guilt clutches my heart at the thought that maybe I’m the person behind that pain. I have no sense of who I was and what I did, but I’m a good person. I know I am. No matter what happened, I would never deliberately go out of my way to hurt Wes.
“How do you know him?”
“Does that matter?” he shoots back.
No? Yes? I’m not sure. Lately, every single thought of mine is dissected, pulled so far apart I can see through them to the truth and lies on the other side. Even then I question myself. But if Wes knows anything about Sinclair, even the smallest piece of information, maybe it will trigger my memory.
“I know everything about him.”
“You’re lying,” I whisper.
“What do I stand to gain by lying?”
We stare at each other. Wes means every word he says. I just can’t tell if it’s the truth or not.
Evelyn cries out and I’m pulled back to the present. I jump up and rush over to her bassinet and pick her up.
“I need to take care of Evelyn.” Stubbornly, I hold her in my arms, hoping that he’ll get the hint and leave. There’s a beat of silence and I think he’s going to stay. Just to torture me. But he finally nods. He kisses the top of my head. I want to believe that it’s a gesture filled with love. I really do. But I can’t. I close my eyes and bite the inside of my cheek.
“Victoria?”
I look over my shoulder.
“Don’t believe a thing he says.”
A comment like that can’t be said in parting. I want to know why he said it, but Wes is already backing out of the room before I can ask.
“Just stop while you’re ahead,” he says. “Nothing good can come out of you turning around and staring at your past.”
“Of course there’s good.”
“Like what?”
“Like my freedom. Like Evelyn and me getting out of here.”
Wes doesn’t glance at Evelyn. Not once. Just keeps his sharp eyes on me. He shakes his head sadly. “If you think that, then maybe you really are crazy,” he says.
The door shuts behind him and I’m left in silence, weighing his words.
Just because one group of pictures triggered memories, it doesn’t mean a new set will.
I’m too nervous to invest faith that this method will be the one that works.
My heart thunders in my ears as I make myself comfortable across from Dr. Calloway. Even Evelyn stops her fussing long enough to peer at Calloway.
My file seems to have taken up permanent residence on Calloway’s desk. It sits at the very top on a small stack of file folders. I know it sounds petty and ridiculous, but I like that I’m at the top. That means that this is important to Calloway too and that, in her eyes, I’m not just some crazy person.
“Ready for some more photos?”
Nervously, my left leg bounces up and down. Dr. Calloway instantly catches the action. She laces her fingers together and leans in. “What’s going through your mind?”
I try to take a deep cleansing breath. “That this time the pictures might not bring any memories.”
Dr. Calloway shrugs. “That may be the case. We don’t know. We’ve only just begun to start the process. I don’t expect every single photo in your file to evoke a memory. I hope so, but if they don’t then they don’t. As long as the photos spark something, even down to the