Remember Me? (Book 1) COMPLETED

Intruder

KATHERINE

"One at a time, please," I said, eyes closed, rubbing circles around my temples. "I can't handle both of you at once." My mind buzzed with thoughts that threatened to engulf me, but at least the rage had fled my body. "Decide amongst yourselves which is more urgent and I'll listen."

I blinked open an eye to see that Mr. Collins had stepped back, leaving the stage to Dr. Firland. The dry, old doctor looked like a roll of parchment, yellow and faded and about to crumble. He eyed me with little concern, and his words dripped off his tongue like something distasteful.

"Ms. Malloy, your mother is in critical condition. She underwent surgery to remove the clot from the artery leading up to her brain, but we won't know exactly how much damage she sustained until she wakes up. We also must take into account her injuries from the car accident." He gave me a pointed look. "You must be prepared to face the possibility that she may never recover." With that, he nodded and stepped back. "I will leave you to speak with Mr. Collins. A nurse will be in later to discuss the next steps with you."

I watched him retreat from the room, noting the haste in his steps. He couldn't get out fast enough. My eyes turned to the greasy-haired lawyer, who wore glasses so thick, his eyes looked like those of some deformed turtle in an animated kid's movie.

My phone buzzed in my hand. I looked down.

Gramps: Heading home now.

I texted back: I'll keep you posted on Mom and Erland.

Seen.

I waited a second for a reply, but I knew he wouldn't answer. I was surprised he had even shown up to the hospital. Where had he been hiding? I hadn't seen him on my way in. Maybe he hid when he heard from the hospital staff that I was on my way. Tears and drama had never been his thing.

I texted Erland.

He should have landed thirty minutes ago.

Nicolas' face flashed in my thoughts. I reminded myself to thank him later. Mr. Collins was beginning to get impatient.

"Can we do this another time, Mr. Collins?" I asked, looking up at him with as fierce a glare as I could muster. I probably looked like crap, though.

I sure felt like it.

"Walter specifically asked that I speak with you today, Ms. Malloy," he started, voice high and annoying, like a pig's. He extended me some papers. "At least read them. You can call me back later, or tomorrow—"

"Or never," I snapped, making a show of crossing my arms. The vanilla folder wavered in the air.

After a moment, he drew his hand back. He placed the folder on the chair beside me, and on top, he dropped a little white card. "You can reach me on any of these numbers, Ms. Malloy." He looked at me, and I could tell, somehow, that he was being sincere. He hesitated on drawing back. "You can call me anytime, or email me, if that's what you prefer. I'll make sure my secretary puts you through."

He started towards the door, head slightly bowed, as if my negative energy had succeeded in poisoning him. Just like I'd turn away Betsy. I felt a pang in my chest.

"Thank you," I said as his hand reached the doorknob.

Mr. Collins paused. "You know, Katherine, your mother isn't the only one to have suffered at the hands of an idiot."

My eyes widened and I began to ask who he'd lost, but the door closed behind him with a click.

The blinds had been drawn, so I couldn't trace him with my eyes as he left, but his uneven step followed him down the hall. I glanced over at my mother. Her heart-rate monitor beeped steadily, up and down in green peaks and valleys.