15

SCARLETT

I walked along the backstreets of town toward the industrial areas after not going to Noah’s. It was stupid and irrational, but the disappointment of my failed conversations with Mum and Dad left me desperate and determined.

So here I was, trawling the nearest industrial estate, looking for anything familiar to what I’d seen in my dreams. I wasn’t even in the same town, that I knew for sure, but I hoped that something would look similar. How different were warehouses anyway?

I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked. The cold wind nipped at my skin, and I wished I had worn a thicker coat. It was supposed to warm up in May, but the weather had turned again. Going back wasn’t an option. As crazy as I was right now, at least I was doing something.

Images of what I’d seen when I was coming around plagued me twenty-four seven. They were more than dreams, and my family wasn’t talking. I had to know what was going on—or what had gone on. I still didn’t understand how the information could just get lost. It didn’t make any sense.

My phone rang in my jeans pocket. I answered the call from Noah and took shelter in the doorway of a UPS warehouse. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey. Where are you?”

“At home,” I replied, wincing as I lied to him. I had been hoping he wouldn’t call until after I’d gotten back. Noah was the only person I could actually talk to about it. Imogen thought I was just being a drama queen and told me there were things that she didn’t remember but it didn’t stress her out. It was different; mine was four years and not just a few occasions.

“Right,” he said, his tone telling me he was obviously upset. “Shall we try that again, Scarlett?”

“What?”

“You’re lying. You’re not at home.”

Blood rushed to my face. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re lucky I called before I came over. Your parents told me you were on your way to my house, but when you didn’t show… What’s going on?”

“I’ll go home now,” I said.

“Where are you? Who’re you with?”

“No one. I’m just walking.”

“You’re just walking,” he repeated, sounding like the least-convinced person in the world.

I started making my way home, walking with long strides, so I’d make it back quickly.

“Yeah. Things have been crazy recently, you know they have. I feel like my head’s going to explode. The stress is too much. You think I’m obsessing for no reason because I’ll remember eventually, and my family refuses to talk about it. No one stops to think about what I need. I just wanted some fresh air and to think for a while.”

“Without telling anyone where you were going?”

“Yes!” I stopped walking. He was irritating me, and I knew it was only because he was worried, but I was tired of not doing what I needed because of other people’s opinions.

“I’m not coming back yet. I need time.”

“Scarlett—”

“I’ll speak to you tomorrow. Bye, Noah.”

Hanging up and turning around, I headed back to the industrial park. I didn’t want to sneak around and lie to my parents and Noah, but none of them understood how badly I needed to figure out what was going on in my head. Every time I thought about it, ice settled in my stomach. I couldn’t help feeling that something was very, very wrong.

My phone rang in my pocket, and as soon as it stopped, it started again. Noah was persistent. I switched it to silent.

Back at UPS, where I’d answered the call to Noah, I looked around. Warehouses all looked the same, right? Big and gray. I took it all in and…nothing. Closing my eyes, I tried to put myself back there. Walking into the building with someone holding my hand. There was mud and rubble under my feet. The warehouse was abandoned. My white dress skimmed the ground as I walked.

I squeezed my eyes shut and pinched the top of my nose, feeling a banging headache coming on. Remember. It shouldn’t have been that hard. I’d lived through those four years; I should have been able to remember them. My head constantly hurt while I desperately tried to fix the broken link in my mind.

Evelyn. Focus on her. She was the only name I knew of the strange faces I saw. I wished I knew who she was. I didn’t see much of her face, but she was pretty and had long, dark-blond hair that fell down to her waist and curled at the ends. That was all I knew about her, but it was still a lot more than the others.

She was running with Jeremy. Where? What were they doing? The soft glow of candlelight made them seem dreamlike, but I knew better than that. They were in the room that was hot too. I couldn’t remember if I was playing with anyone, but at the time, I was just standing and watching them. Why wouldn’t I have joined in? Jeremy and I played all the time when we were younger.

I leaned back against the metal wall and gripped my hair. I was back there, playing the same memory over and over in my mind, desperately trying to extend it past the few short seconds it lasted. What happened next? I imagined a broken link and fixed it in my head, hoping, praying that it’d somehow trick my mind into mending whatever went wrong after the accident.

It happened.

I was there.

I could do this.

Gripping my hair, I whimpered as my head started to throb. Stay with it. Don’t give up. Everything was inside my head; I just had to let it out. Think. Remember. Please. I tried to do what Dr. Pain got me to do and manipulate the memory. I paused it, keeping Evelyn still in my mind. All I could see was the side of her face, her rosy cheek, button nose, and the corner of her eye that had no color right now but I thought it was dark.

I imagined I was with her, standing by her side, slightly taller because back then I was only a few inches shorter than Jeremy and she only came up to his shoulder. She wore a white dress like the one I’d been wearing. I didn’t feel anything when she was there. The memories of me crying and feeling hot from the candles made my heart race in the worst way. Evelyn brought on nothing.

But the candles might. The smell, warmth, and feel of having candles alight may do something. I’d been around them before, of course, but I hadn’t been focused on them before. I turned around yet again and jogged home, hoping this latest direction would work. I had to know what had happened to me. The more they avoided it and the more I listened to what my mind was telling me while I was asleep, the more I knew it wasn’t just a simple case of a PTSD from a house fire.

Mum and Dad were watching a movie in the living room when I got home. Jeremy’s car wasn’t in the driveway, so he was probably off with Amie. “Is that you, Scarlett?” Dad called.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to watch The Man with the Golden Gun with us? It’s just starting.”

“No, thanks, I’m going to have a bath.”

“Okay,” he replied, and I headed upstairs, stopping in the hall to grab Mum’s box of candles from the dresser. If I didn’t remember tonight, I didn’t know what I was going to do. I was close to tears and so frustrated, I felt like slamming my fist into the mirror. Something is wrong and they won’t tell me!

I locked the bathroom door, took a deep breath, and started running the water. I was going to have to actually have a bath now I’d said it.

I set two tea lights on the windowsill and a candlestick in a holder on the side of the bath, and struck a match against the side of the box. Staring at the flame, I said a quiet prayer for this to work and lit the wicks.

Sitting on the edge of the bath, I stared at the tall, white candle on the side of the bath. That one was the closest to the one I’d seen, and I just wanted the others to give the illusion of there being more flames around without the danger of them falling out of their silver holders.

I felt the warmth and calm that staring at a flame brought; it was like cuddling up indoors on a cold, winter day. I loved fire, had always been drawn to it. Ironic really, as it was fire that stole four years from me.

Stripping out of my clothes, I got into the bath and sat closer, making sure to leave enough distance so if the candle did fall, I wouldn’t get burnt. I breathed in and out slowly for five seconds, closed my eyes, and felt myself being drawn toward the heat.

I gasped and was a child again, in the room that was too hot. Jeremy and Evelyn were running, and this time I made them run around and around, coming in and out of my view. And I didn’t focus on them now. I left them and walked to the candles. I felt the heat from the one in front of me and smelled the smoke as the small flame flickered, creating light and dark patches behind my eyelids.

I didn’t realize I was breathing hard until my chest started to hurt. I should’ve stopped, but I felt closer than I ever had before. The heat and smell made me feel something. Fear. My skin may have felt hot, but inside I was cold. Frozen still. I gagged, swallowing bile as I felt betrayal and loneliness, even though I didn’t understand it.

My eyes flew open and I clung to the handles on the bath. Tears streamed down my face as I tried to make sense of what’d just happened. I wanted to curl up and sob until my throat was raw because of the feeling of pure fear I’d just experienced. And I didn’t even know why I was afraid. Something really bad had happened to me, something that my memory was protecting me from, and even though I could feel how scared I was back then, it still refused to let me relive it.

“Scarlett?” Mum called, knocking on the door.

I jumped and spun around, making water swoosh up the side of the wall. My head and heart hurt so much, I felt like I was going to pass out. “Yeah?” I replied as calmly as I could.

“Are you okay in there? Are you crying? Did something happen with Noah?”

Hearing her concern suddenly made me furious. How dare she ask if I was okay when this was all her fault?

“I’m fine,” I replied. “We argued but we’ve made up already.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Why don’t you come out and we can talk?”

I gripped the handles tighter. “No, thanks. Really, I’m okay, just want to relax for a while.” I honestly did want to relax—not that I could.

“All right. I’m downstairs if you need me.”

“Thanks.” I think I managed to keep the seething anger out of my words. She was my mum. How could she keep something that was obviously a huge deal from me? They demanded honesty from me but were lying themselves. I never thought my parents would turn out to be hypocrites. I was so disappointed in them and frustrated with myself.

The truth was all I wanted. Why wouldn’t anyone just give me that?