The Persistence of Memory | ✔

08

Fearnley sounded more tired than the last time Nina had spoken to him. The sheer exhaustion dripped from his voice as he gave an awkward greeting, as if Nina could ever possibly forget who he was. She could just about picture the thin man, fidgeting in his seat as he pressed the phone to his ear with a slightly shaking hand, shoulders hunched while the guard's stare pierced through him.

"I'm sorry to call you so early, Ms. Sheppard," Fearnley said, sounding uneasy. It was just past nine; Nina wouldn't have called it early. Still, she appreciated Fearnley's consideration.

"It's fine, Mr. Fearnley. I'm sure you didn't call without a reason." She waited for him to respond, deciding it would be best to let him lead the conversation. There was a notepad in her hand along with a pen. Nina was ready for whatever he had to say.

"No, I didn't," Fearnley paused. Nina wondered if he was just taking a break to compose his words. Perhaps the glare of the guard on his back made him uneasy. Nina couldn't blame him. "It's just, I've been thinking, about our last conversation. About the memories I said were foggy."

Nina waited, trying to be patient when all she wanted to do was demand answers. She could hear Fearnley's breaths, could hear him swallow nervously and shift in his seat.

"Sometimes, I'm not sure about what I remember," Fearnley finally said. "I know I was there, I remember being there. I left work that day, and it was raining, they didn't say it would rain on the news, so I got soaked on the way there. And then I was talking to the doctor—I don't know about what, but she was upset—and then she looked scared, and I—" Fearnley cut himself off. They both knew what happened next.

"There was this loud bang," he went on after a moment's pause, voice sounding shakier than it had before, choked by the guilt he still carried.

"Then you left," Nina said, not wanting to make him relive the moment. "And you tossed the gun. They never found it, did they?"

"They didn't," Fearnley still sounded shaken. "But I don't remember the trip home all that well."

"Is that what you're not sure of?"

"No. That's not it." He let out a long breath after that, as if bracing himself for what he was about to admit. "Lately, I've had these memories—they come randomly—and I don't know what they are."

Nina held her breath, wondering if she'd been right. If maybe she wasn't the only one Alice had implanted memories into. She could feel her heart beating rapidly in her chest even as she did her best to remain calm.

"What do you see in them?" she couldn't help but ask, and was glad to note that her tone was far calmer than she felt at the moment.

"That day, I remember going home," Fearnley said. "I left work and it was raining, just like in my other memories. Only I didn't go to see the doctor, I went home. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm sure of it. I went home, and I didn't leave 'til the next day," he sounded just a bit desperate to have Nina believe him. Like he knew what he was saying wasn't possible, but was still certain it was the truth. "I swear I went home."

Nina felt her mouth go dry, her head spinning as she went over Fearnley's revelation. She heard him give a shuddering breath and wondered if the man was weeping. If the weight of it all was finally enough to make him crumble.

"I believe you," she said softly, meaning every word. "Mr. Fearnley, have you had any odd side effects since the surgery? Headaches, trouble sleeping, strange dreams?" He didn't respond for a minute, most likely thrown off by the question, but Nina had to know and time was running out.

"No, well, headaches I guess. Why does that matter? Do you think I'm going crazy?" Nina nearly laughed at that, a bitter laugh that would have been directed more at herself than at Fearnley.