Unhinge - Calia Read Page 0,8
last night.
“Sinclair Montgomery,” he elaborates.
Still nothing. All I can do is shrug. His eyes close and his lips move into a flat line. I don’t know him, but his pain is obvious. I wish I could help him. Yet how can I? I can barely help myself.
“You don’t remember me,” he says bluntly. No anger or hurt in his voice but there’s a riot of emotions in his eyes. It’s almost too much for me.
“Should I?”
His lips tilt up into the saddest smile. “You should.”
It’s crazy to have someone look straight at you, with thousands of memories playing in their eyes. Memories you can’t retrieve but wish you could.
Crazy and terrifying.
“Your name doesn’t sound familiar,” I offer quietly. I feel like my tongue is too big for my mouth and that anything I say will sound pathetic.
Sinclair.
His name is Sinclair.
With his dark looks and intense eyes, the name fits him to a T. He smiles at me, a slow smirk that spreads across his face, as if he knows what I’m thinking.
“I know you don’t remember me. That’s why I’m here,” he says. “We have a lot to catch up on.”
This seems all too…unbelievable. I hold Evelyn tighter. “Are you lying to me?” I whisper.
He leans in. “Since we’ve known each other I’ve never lied to you once,” he says fiercely.
“And how long has that been?”
He swallows and I watch his Adam’s apple bob. “Two and a half years.”
My doubt shows in my eyes.
Sinclair sighs. “I know you don’t believe me.”
“You’re right,” I concede. “I don’t. I’ve lived here for three years. There’s no way we’ve met.”
Sinclair frowns. His eyes flick across the room for a quick second and veer back to me. “Three years? You haven’t been here for three years.”
My mouth opens. I’m so close to insisting that I’m right. I should know better than anyone how long I’ve been here, but as I skim through my Fairfax memories and go back to the beginning I don’t see much. And that was all in…2011?
Frustration gets the best of me. What’s the point in having a memory when it doesn’t work? I close my eyes and rub my temple. When I finally look at Sinclair his expression softens as though he sees the brick wall my mind is running into. “You’ve only been in here for six months.”
I want to challenge his word so badly. I want to have cold hard facts, but I don’t. Three years. Three whole years I’ve been here and if we were such good friends why didn’t he come sooner? I ask.
“Since you’ve been here, I’ve tried to visit you every day.” His lips pull into a flat line. “I’ve been turned away every time.”
“How do you expect me to believe that?”
“Ask any of the nurses. Go look at the visitor sign-in sheet from yesterday, the day before, and the day before that. You’ll see my name on every page.”
I swallow loudly.
No one told me about his visits. I feel anger blossom in my chest. Shouldn’t it be my choice to decide who can and cannot see me?
“I promise you I’m not lying.” And before I can say a word, he speaks again. “Do you remember anything that happened?”
I frown. “What are you talking about?”
“Your past,” he says bluntly. “Do you remember?”
Patiently, he waits for my reply. My pulse skyrockets. “No.”
“Well I do.” His voice becomes gruff. “I can help you…if you let me.”
His offer is dangerous and enchanting. I have no proof, but I believe he knows my past. He is part of it.
I glance down at the table. A fine coat of dust covers the surface. I write my name in clear block letters.
VICTORIA.
VICTORIA.
VICTORIA.
I see nothing. Just letters strung together. This man claims to know me and I can’t help but wonder what he sees behind my name.
“How do you expect me to believe you?”
“You and my sister used to be best friends.”
“Used to?”
He nods and hesitates. “Before everything happened.”
When his words trail off, I have to stop myself from reaching across the table, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and demanding that he tell me everything.
But instead I just say: “Why doesn’t she visit?”
“She did at the beginning, but like me, she’s restricted.”
Exactly how many people were barred from seeing me? Was there a list? Did Wes make that happen or my mother? Or maybe my doctors were behind it?
“Why would she not be allowed to visit me?”
He gives me a weary smile. “Because she was the one who