My heart warmed at his statement. He believed me. He might have emphasized the "is," but the belief was there in his eyes, if not his words.
"That might be a good thing. It might just lead to them making a mistake and exposing their identity."
"Or killing you outright. There'd have to be someone else other than Evin on watch here."
"I guess." I might be able to defend myself, but there was no defense against a long-range bullet. And while I kept hearing that voice telling me he didn't want me dead just yet, that he wanted me to suffer, that didn't mean I wouldn't end up dead if things started going wrong before my seven days were up. After all, I was a long way from home.
Home.
God, I ached for it - ached for the people who I couldn't remember but who I was suddenly certain made home home - so badly the word stuck in my throat and made breathing suddenly difficult. I might not remember where home was exactly, but I so wanted to see Rhoan and Liander and ...
Someone else, someone who was my heart if not my soul.
Someone who was in that battered, bloody, black car. Someone I'd already been told was dead.
No, something inside me screamed. No!
I rubbed my forehead wearily and battled to keep that scream inside. At least some information was slowly leaking back. I had two more names now: Rhoan and Liander. They were a part of me - not just a part of my life. I felt that with every fiber.
Which meant one of them, at least, was my brother.
Rhoan, that little voice whispered. My brother, my twin.
I took a deep, somewhat shuddery breath and released it slowly. I was tempted to ask Harris to do a search for him, but instinct said not to. Harris was right - whoever was behind this plot had planned it thoroughly. If Rhoan was my brother, then any official search for him might just raise alarms. Hell, even if I found his phone number, just ringing him might lead to more drastic action. Like his death.
That voice had said that he wanted me to suffer. And what better way was there to achieve that than to wipe my memories, take me away from everything and everyone I loved, then slowly allow those memories to come back - only to have each and every one I cared about murdered the moment I contacted them?
It would be his style. Whoever "he" was.
But first things first. I needed to find my brother's location, either through Google or the old-fashioned way, via the White Pages - and at least looking through a phone book would leave nothing to trace.
I could decide what my next step should be once I'd found him.
"You're looking rather lost in your thoughts," Harris commented, and the sudden sound of his voice made me jump. I'd totally forgotten he was there for a moment. "Care to share?"
"Just remembering some names." I shrugged. "Their relationship to me, however, remains tantalizingly lost in the fog."
He grunted, and I wasn't entirely sure he believed me. "You ready to leave?"
I raised an eyebrow. "I have a choice?"
Again a slight smile tugged his lips. "No, you do not." He waved a hand toward the doorway. "After you, Hanna London."
I opened my mouth to tell him that wasn't my name, then snapped it closed. My name was there, I could feel it, but it just wouldn't reveal itself.
Patience, I reminded myself.
Only I had a suspicion patience was the one thing I didn't have a lot of.
I made my way through the house and out the back. Harris closed and locked the door behind us, then turned around and said, "I won't find you inside again, will I?"
I smiled, but my reply was cut off by the sudden sound of screaming.
Screaming that was male and filled with fear.
Screaming that was cut off almost as quickly as it had begun.
Chapter 11