Remember Me? (Book 1) COMPLETED

Arrival

KATHERINE

"Are you sure this posting looks credible, Betsy?" I asked, giving her a wry look.

Betsy inspected her handiwork, then decidedly lowered the whole thing a half-inch.

I frowned.

She lowered the poster a bit more.

"To the right now," I added.

She obliged, a frown creasing her porcelain face.

"And a little bit higher . . ."

She speared the tack through the paper and dropped her arms. "Are you done stalling or can we get going to drop you off at the airport?"

"I guess so, but—"

Betsy didn't let me finish.

She pushed me out the door, into the blinding sunlight, and to the car, where Rick waved from the driver's seat.

"Ready, Kat?" he asked, flashing me a smile as I hopped in the backseat.

I chewed my lip as the car shifted into gear. "Are you sure everything is going to be okay? My mother—"

"Will be well taken care of."

"And the apartment, the landlord—"

"Already knows we're subletting it and can't evict," Betsy finished yet again. "Now, your mother's house is going to be fine, too. Rick did the math, remember? You'll have enough this way."

"Barring any extraordinary medical complications . . ."

Betsy frowned. "You won't have to worry about that, Kat. I promise your mother will be fine."

She reached over the back of her seat to grasp my hand.

"Six months and you're free," she said, giving me a weak smile, "don't forget that.

"Six months," I repeated.

It had become our mantra in the past few days of packing. Mom's house was full to the brim with not only her crap but mine as well. Hopefully, by some miracle she would wake up fine, but the doctor had said that would be less and less likely.

"I'll call you if anything comes up, okay?" Betsy squeezed my hand.

"And I know we haven't discussed this," added Rick, "but if she wakes up before the six months are out, there's no question she'll be staying with me and Betsy."

Hot tears pricked my eyes, and a lump welled up in my throat. Truth be told, to hear that, it made me feel an overwhelming crash of relief.

Turning onto the highway saved me the pressure of having to find the words to express my gratitude, so I tried to relax into the backseat.

Cars flew by in flashes of silver, red, and black, racing on the open road to nowhere, the trees closing in around the asphalt winding over hills and bends. Betsy hummed an off-key tune to herself, seemingly made up with Rick as their hands chased each other across the dashboard.

The world disappeared around this metal shell of serenity and for the thirty minute ride to the airport, I was saved the crushing reality of recognizing what my life will become.

At last, when I stepped out into the terminal, I couldn't help but glance back at a supportive Betsy and her outwardly faithful husband. To anyone else, and even to me at that moment, they seemed the perfect couple, but under those beautiful smiles were the band-aids plastered over abysmal cracks in their foundation.

I turned away with a wave, hiding the image from my mind, trying to hold onto how they once were on the surface: happy, loving, carefree. Then, shouldering my bag with a smile I knew would convince no one, I walked into the airport.