“Let’s stop saying sorry to one another and just accept the fact that I’m broken, and you’re a…” My mind draws a blank because Lacey is pretty darn perfect.
She thinks otherwise. “A nosy neighbor who means well?”
A laugh erupts from me. “Okay, that seems fair. So how about from now on, we ask one another whatever is on our minds and make no apologies for it. How’s that sound?”
Lacey taps her pointer against the steering wheel as if mulling over my suggestion. “All right. That’s what friends do, right?”
She’ll never know just how much I appreciate her choice of words. “Yes, that’s exactly what they do. So go ahead…ask me anything.”
Her head snaps my way before returning to the road. “Anything?”
“Yes, anything,” I confirm. Leaning my head back against the headrest, I relish in this new sense of freedom.
The car is silent as Lacey contemplates which question to ask. “You really don’t remember anything?”
I smile, thankful she’s taken my suggestion and dived into the deep end. “No, nothing really solid…”
“Why did you move here? I don’t mean to be nasty, but I could think of a million more exciting places to move to if I lost my memory and wanted to start fresh.”
She quickly bites down on her lips as if she’s overstepped a line, but she hasn’t. “I honestly don’t know. Yesterday, during my”—I search for the right word—“blackout, I thought I remembered something, but I don’t even know what I saw.”
“Has it happened before?”
I nod. “Yes. I have the same vision. It started not long after I woke up from my coma.” The car is silent, the background music and our pensive breathing filling the otherwise still air. “I’m pretty sure I’ve been here before. I know that sounds crazy—believe me, I know—but that lake, that towering oak with the swing, I’ve seen it before.” Goose bumps prick my skin, and I rub my arms to warm the chill.
Lacey swallows. Her sunglasses conceal what’s going on behind her eyes, but I can sense her intrigue. “Lots of lakes have oak trees with swings, Peyton. I’m not trying to play devil’s advocate, but what makes you so certain that this lake is the one you’ve seen?”
I know it sounds ridiculous, and she has every right to ask what she did, but her doubt only further cements my certainty. “Because I can clearly see the red ribbon in my flashbacks. You know the one. It’s tied to the rope. It’s so distinct.” Lacey’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, but other than that, she remains unmoving. “I don’t know what it means, but I just have a feeling it’s so important to uncovering all of this. I don’t suppose you know what it means? Has it always been there?”
I give her the time she needs to reply because I know it’s all a little confusing and weird. She inhales before shaking her head. “I haven’t thought much of it, to be honest. I always figured someone found the ribbon and tied it to the swing in hopes the owner would find it.”
I purse my lips because that’s a very valid reasoning. But why would I remember it? Surely, it has to mean something for me to remember it so vividly.
“Do you remember anything else?” she asks, her tone grave. She knows there’s more.
As much as I want to confess that I do, I shake my head. I need to wrap my brain around what I’m seeing before I confess to being a murderer because, deep down, that’s what I think I might be.
She seems relieved that there isn’t any more. “Well, I’m here to help. If I can help you remember in any way, then I’ll do it.”
“Thank you, Lacey. You’ll never know how much that means to me. How long have you lived here?” I ask. I know she all but said I don’t look familiar, but maybe she’ll know of someone who might.
“All my life,” she replies softly.
“Maybe you’d know of someone who might know who I am?” I know it’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try. She’s quiet once again, which is probably my cue to shut up. She’s being more than helpful, and I don’t want to impose. “Anyway, I wanted to explain what happened yesterday, so if it happens again, you know to grab a coffee. I’ll come to soon enough.”
I jolt when Lacey reaches out to gently rub the back of my hand. “Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. You’ve got me now. We can make new memories.”
My earlier thought of living for the now crosses my mind, and I smile. Whatever happens today, tomorrow, next week, I know this memory is one I will never forget.