After a terrible accident, Gemma is left with no memory of the first twenty years of her life and nobody to turn to who can help her remember. When she loses her job, Gemma sets out on an adventure to find something worth living for. What she doesn'...
This is the last (yes last!) update of Part 1! Updates, as you may have noticed, will be less frequent from now on cause the school year has officially started for me. If you want to find out what happens to Keira, Emile, Audrick, Declan, and Chelsea, please follow me to receive notifications when I update/post a message regarding DL!
Thank you so much for your patience and have a great week,
Hayley
♠♠♠
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SIX DAYS PASS before I see Émile again.
Shortly after Declan's intrusion during our illicit meeting, I left Émile's dorm to go to the library and catch up on the work I'd been neglecting for the past twenty four hours. With school in full swing, assignments and exams have made down time a rarity, and, unfortunately, I need to keep my grades up
But formulae and theorems haven't been the only thing on my mind. At the forefront all week has been my discovery in Audrick's office and what it implies. All week I've been thinking of what to do now. Do I leave Licapta to search for family? Old friends? Do I raid Audrick's office for more information? How do I go about either of these things without arousing suspicion?
Needless to say, I'm not excited to see my exam scores.
Tonight, though, I hope to get some relief from the questions plaguing my wellbeing. Émile and I decided my apartment was probably the best to talk, and I'm hoping that together Émile and I can come up with something. If he still wants to help, that is.
"You know," I say as I place two glasses of iced tea on the coffee table in front of him, "I understand if you don't want in on all this. Frankly, it's quite dangerous, and I know you came here to see if there was any way to help your mother."
"I want to help you," he says, raising his gaze to meet mine. But there's something in his eyes, a strange semblance of emotion that I peg as regret or melancholy. His expression brightens slightly when he says, "And helping you might help me help my mother. This place isn't... fair. This world isn't fair, and the more I learn, the more able I will be to help her."
I want to ask him how, but his mother's illness isn't a subject we've spoken about often, and I don't want to open a wound. So I nod. "Okay."
We spend the next while discussing how to enact my ideas as well as the feasibility of them. Every option seems risky, and I really don't know how we're going to pull this off.
When there's a lull in our discussion, I realize all the iced tea I've consumed has caught up to me. "I'll be right back," I say to Émile, getting to my feet.
