The Persistence of Memory | ✔

07

The headache Nina had been forced to endure for hours finally showed some signs of abating sometime soon. A likely cause of the pain, she knew, was thanks to the stress that the revelation of Fearnley's very likely innocence had brought her.

Nina didn't remember much about the drive back home from Fearnley's apartment. It had all been a blur, her thoughts still swirling—unable to focus as the things she'd learned all clamored for her attention. By the time Nina had stepped into her apartment, her next task seemed clear and her mind felt just the slightest bit more settled.

She had to find proof that Fearnley was home when Alice was killed. Even if Fearnley's connection with Alice had nothing to do with the memories in Nina's mind, she knew the guilt of knowing Fearnley could be innocent would eat at her unless she did something. At that moment, Fearnley's face swam into her mind, his dull blue eyes still holding the look of defeat the man had worn when Nina had last seen him.

And then, Nina thought of the book on top of the coffee table in his empty apartment, gathering dust. Of the memories of his daughter Fearnley still held onto and the pain his family was most likely going through. Nina's resolve hardened at that alone.

Meticulously, Nina began organizing all of the notes and information she'd gathered on both Fearnley and Alice. Most of it were things released to the public in the various reports of Alice's murder. Then there was what Nina had found about Fearnley and Alice's past. All of that, she gathered with the knowledge that she'd need as many pieces as she could get to solve the puzzle.

Once that was done—and with the headache she'd been suffering from finally gone—Nina jotted down the timeline of events Fearnley's neighbor helped her uncover. Before she could do anything else, Nina knew she'd have to figure out just how much of what the older woman told her was true. For that, Nina would have to talk to Fearnley. Unfortunately, Nina didn't think she'd be able to arrange another visit, not when it had been hard enough to get the first one. She would have to wait—and hope—that Fearnley would want to talk to her enough to actually call her, as unlikely as that was.

Just as she was thinking this, Nina's cell phone rang. She nearly jumped, alarmed by the sudden sound, before picking up her phone—the caller was Nat.

"Hey, Nat," Nina said, doing her best to sound as normal as possible, despite her still rapidly beating heart.

"Hi, Nina," Nat sounded as she always did—happy, confident. Nina knew she should have felt happy to hear from her friend, but all she could think of were those mismatched eyes that seemed to stare right through her. She shook those thoughts out of her head to focus on the conversation at hand. "How have you been feeling?"

"Fine, I've been alright," Nina answered despite not feeling the least bit okay. "Haven't really done much, to be honest."

"Well, maybe that's for the best. You looked tired last time we talked."

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's just that a lot's happened and there's still a lot I have to sort out." Nina rubbed at her eyes, feeling the strain from all the hours of missed sleep.

"You mean like those dreams you were telling me about."

Nina froze for a second, the words sinking in slowly. She wasn't sure how to respond. A part of her wanted to reassure her friend, tell her she was fine for what seemed like the hundredth time—despite knowing she was far from it. Then, there was the other part of her that just wanted help. The part that needed someone to talk to, someone to listen to her and help her pick up the pieces.

But Nina knew she couldn't do that. Couldn't ask Nat to do that, of all people. She had enough to worry about in her own life.

"Yeah, well, at least that's settled now. They kind of went away on their own a while back. Must have been the stress." The lie came easily to Nina, something she was thankful for despite the slight twinge of guilt she felt at lying to her friend.