Remember (18 page)

chapter thirty-one

I
was in a tack room, but not the one at Hampton Mews. I was sitting on a wool blanket on a hay bale. There was a plastic toy horse in my hands, and I was brushing the long mane. I could even remember the name of the horse. Midnight.

My mom—my real mom, Robyn—was cleaning her saddle, whistling a song. She looked over and smiled at me. She had a small pair of nail scissors in her hand and was snipping at the threads on the saddle. My eyes went wide. Even though I was just a kid, I knew this was something that wasn’t done. She pulled a thumb drive out of her jeans pocket and slid it into the small hole.

Mom winked at me. “This one’s our secret.”

I remembered the rush of warmth I felt. I liked having a secret with my mom.

Memories of my mom flooded in, tumbling over one
another, each one pushing for attention. I remembered her teaching me to ride my bike, holding on to the back of my seat and running along the street next to me. She was laughing and her hair was blowing around. I thought I was flying.

I remembered how she smelled like vanilla, and how she would crawl into bed with me in the mornings as part of waking me up for school. She’d start off rubbing my back, but if I didn’t get up, she’d tickle me until I would giggle and tumble out of bed.

Some memories were just images. Her laughing. Her coming home from work and falling asleep curled up in the corner of the sofa. Her and my dad kissing in the kitchen when they didn’t know I was watching.

I held the sides of my head. I felt like my skull was going to explode. There wasn’t room inside for all the new memories. I was squeezing the thumb drive. She’d hidden it for a reason. My stomach tightened as another memory clicked into place.

I’d stayed home from school because I was sick. I’d thrown up that morning, spewing brightly colored Froot Loops onto the white linoleum kitchen floor. I felt better after I’d thrown up, but I didn’t protest when my mom called the school and said I couldn’t make it. It meant she would stay home with me.

We’d watched a movie and somewhere in the middle I’d fallen asleep. My mom had carried me upstairs and tucked me into my own bed. The slam of the kitchen door woke me up.
My dad was yelling. I could smell the meat loaf my mom must have put in the oven while I napped.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin. My parents were fighting. They’d been fighting a lot lately. They tried to do it when I wasn’t around, but I still knew. My stomach hurt again. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I knew it was about their work. Things in the house were different. Even when they weren’t fighting, there was a tension underneath everything, as if we were all waiting for a bomb to go off.

“It’s not up to just you. We need to take the information forward!” my mom yelled. “It can’t stay a secret.”

“You bring that forward and everything will be ruined,” my dad fired back.

I stood in the doorway, uncertain. I could hear my mom coming up the stairs with my dad right behind her. I wasn’t sure if I should say anything or not. If they saw me, they would stop arguing or at least stop yelling. I wondered if the secret my mom was talking about had anything to do with what she’d hidden at the barn the day before. I could smell the meat loaf starting to burn. Meat loaf had always been one of my favorites—she made it with the ketchup crust—but now the smell made me nauseated again. I stepped softly into the hall. My mom stood at the top of the stairs ready to go back down and rescue dinner from burning further.

“This isn’t up for discussion. If you won’t bring forward the information, I will.” Her voice was cold.

“You aren’t the one who gets to decide if this conversation is over,” Dad said.

Mom whirled around to say something, but her foot slipped on the laminate wood floor. She reached out and grabbed for the bookcase, her hand knocking the shelf. The globe that sat on the top rocked back and forth. Everything slowed down. She fell backward. My dad reached for her, but she was already gone, tumbling down the stairs. Her body hit the landing with a loud, wet thump. The globe exploded next to her on the tile floor.

She never screamed, but I did. My dad turned and saw me standing there.

* * *

I realized I was crying. The tears carved hot trails down my face. My memory was a blank after my mom’s fall. I wanted to believe my dad had made the decision to wipe my memory because I saw her die and it changed me in some way, but I feared the truth was he hadn’t wanted me to tell anyone what I’d heard. He wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know they’d been fighting, that things in our house were anything less than perfect. Maybe he was simply afraid that if people knew they’d fought, he might be suspected of something. But I knew it was more than that. If he’d been hiding information on side effects that my mom had discovered, I would be the only other person who knew. Any side effects were a problem with his plan. That made me a problem. I turned the thumb drive over again in my
hand. I rubbed my face with the back of my hand. The time for crying was over.

I tapped on Laura’s office door. The door swung open. She wasn’t there. This made it easier. I crossed the room and jiggled her computer mouse to wake up her monitor. I slid the thumb drive in and held my breath. It was almost nine years old and had spent that time jammed in a saddle. It was a really expensive saddle. My dad probably couldn’t bear the idea of getting rid of something so valuable, but he’d had no idea what was still inside it. I wasn’t even sure the drive would work anymore, but the small icon appeared on the desktop. I bit my lip, said a small prayer, and clicked on it.

For a second nothing happened. Then a document opened. It was an Excel spreadsheet. I scrolled up and down trying to make sense of the numbers. It had to be the data on side effects. My mom had made a copy and hidden it where she knew my dad would never look. I pulled the drive back out and then slid it back in and quickly e-mailed a copy of the documents to myself so I’d have an extra just in case. My mom might not be able to do anything about the situation anymore, but I could.

chapter thirty-two

I
t might have been a Saturday, but there would still be people working at Neurotech. The clinic side was closed for the day, but there was always a small group working in the labs. Progress didn’t take a break.

Mr. Epstein, the security guard, smiled when he saw me. He buzzed open the door. There was a rush of cold air. It made the thin sheen of sweat on my arms ice over. The air conditioner was set up too high.

“What are you doing here on the weekend?” I asked, rubbing my arms to warm them up.

“Regular weekend guy has the flu. Figured I better pick up the extra hours; one of these days that little girl of mine is going to go away to college, and I’ll be glad of the money. That reminds me—I’ve been meaning to thank you for the advice.”

My mind drew a blank.

“You sent me places I could take my little girl for her birthday. The trail ride places.” He mimed galloping along.

“She had a good birthday?”

“She just about busted her buttons when she saw what we had planned for the party. Girl is horse crazy.” He shook his head like it drove him nuts, but I could see in his eyes how much he loved her.

I managed a smile. “I was too at that age. Careful, some of us don’t outgrow it.”

“Can’t say which of us enjoyed the day more. It’s not often I get to be that much of a hero just for renting a couple of old nags. I figure I’ve only got a few more years where she believes I’m the bee’s knees and then she’ll be all grown up. Maybe if I play it right, she won’t outgrow thinking her dad is the best guy she knows, huh?”

His words felt like a sucker punch to the gut. “She shouldn’t,” I said. Mr. Epstein looked pleased. The guy worked extra hours to give his daughter everything. I wonder if she knew how lucky she was.

“Your dad’s down in the big conference room. You want me to buzz him?” he said, bringing me back to reality.

“No, thanks. I want to surprise him.”

Mr. Epstein hit the buzzer that unlocked the door to the hall. He had no idea just how surprised my dad was about to be.

The halls were quiet; the building felt empty. My shoes
made a squeaking sound on the white tile. The big conference room was in the very corner of the building, where the floor-to-ceiling glass windows commanded the best view. I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed open the door. My dad sat at one end of the table with stacks of paper spread out in front of him and Josh. Josh looked like a mini version of my dad, right down to his lab coat with his name stitched on the lapel. They both pushed their glasses up on their face at the same time. No other CEO would spend time with an intern, but I knew my dad couldn’t resist having Josh around hero-worshipping him. Josh’s internship was more for my dad than anyone else. I should have seen it all along.

Dad leaned back. “Well, what do we owe this unexpected surprise to? Couldn’t keep away from your two favorite guys, huh?”

Josh shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not meeting my eyes. Apparently he told my dad everything I was up to, except for the fact that we’d broken up. He must have been afraid he might lose his precious internship if my dad knew.

“I remember everything,” I said. “It all came back to me.”

My dad’s jawline tightened. “Maybe we should go home and talk about this.”

“You want Josh to tell you every little detail—shouldn’t you return the favor?” I crossed my arms.

Josh looked like he wanted to crawl under the table to avoid the entire conversation.

“My real mom did find data to prove there were side effects. You didn’t want any bad press. Wiping my memory was never about helping me. Maybe that is what you told yourself to feel better about it, but you know that’s not true. It was about helping you.” I swallowed hard to keep myself from crying. My mom would want me to be strong. “She died, and you never brought her worries forward, and to make sure I wouldn’t, you blocked everything. Wiped it clean.”

“Harper—”

I cut him off. “You got your business, your big house, and if a few people got sick, then it didn’t matter. Guess the end justifies the means.”

Dad pushed back from the table. “Honey, I know all of this probably seems very real to you.”

“Seems real?” I sputtered.

“Memory is fragile. Things slip away.” His hands waved vaguely. “This is why I wanted you to come back for that appointment.”

“Slip away? I think you meant wiped away.”

He sighed. “Yes, or wiped away. I’ve explained what I did and why. What you need to be aware of is that whatever you think you remember, you can’t trust it.”

I snorted. “That’s convenient for you.”

Dad rubbed his eyes. “Trust me, nothing about this is convenient. Your memory is damaged. Now that you know there are gaps, you’re more susceptible to suggestion. Your memories
could be a dream, or a snippet from a TV show that your brain is cutting and pasting to fit.”

“You think I’m making this up?” The disbelief was clear in my voice.

Josh shook his head. “That’s not what he’s saying. He’s saying that your brain could be making it up. To you it would seem as real as any other memory.”

“Especially if you’re agitated,” Dad added. “I’m worried about you. I think all of this is affecting you. You’re not yourself.” He looked at Josh for confirmation. “Your friends have noticed.”

“This is me. You might not like it, but one thing that all of this has taught me is that just because things aren’t pretty doesn’t make it right to hide from them.”

Dad pressed his lips together. “I think you’re having paranoid delusions.” He held out a hand. “I know you don’t believe me, but that’s because you’re in the middle of everything.” He stood and reached for me. I backed up. He flinched as if I’d slapped him instead of stepping away. “Honey, I’m going to make this okay.”

I laughed. “Really? That would be an interesting trick. Your best one ever.”

“You need medical treatment. You’re not well.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose as if all of this were just too much for him.

“You think this is all in my head?” I hated the look on
his face. He was so sure he could sweep this under the carpet too. Keep things just the way he liked them, and anything that didn’t fit would be shoved to the side. All he had to do was convince everyone I wasn’t quite all there and he’d get away with it again. This time it wasn’t going to be that easy. I fished the thumb drive out of my bag and tossed it onto the table. “This isn’t in my head. This is real. It’s the data Mom collected. It’s all here.”

My dad paled slightly. Josh looked shocked. It was as if I’d dumped a grenade into the room. I fought the urge to jam my fist in the air in a victory.

“I’m going to get you help,” Dad said.

“You should worry about getting yourself a lawyer.”

Dad and I faced off. It was a showdown. He crossed the room and picked up the phone. “Evan, can you leave one of the treatment rooms open for me?” He unplugged the phone from the wall and put the receiver in his pocket. No one else was making a call. Black spots appeared in the corner of my vision. I’d made a critical mistake. I’d wanted to confront him so bad I hadn’t taken time to consider how far he might be willing to go.

I backed up. “You’re going to wipe my memory again.”

Josh looked shocked. I saw him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“I’m going to try to help you.” My dad held out a hand as if to try and calm me down.

“How are you going to explain that? You got away with it when I was nine, but people are going to ask questions now. People will wonder what happened to me, why I suddenly can’t remember months of my life.”

“You’re sick, Harper. All I want to do is make you better. You’re clearly upset. You don’t have to feel like this.”

I could feel my blood pressure rising. My heart was beating a thousand times a second. Josh looked at my dad. He wanted to believe what he was saying. Why wouldn’t he? It made it easier. If I was telling the truth, everything he wanted and believed in was blowing up in front of his face. If my dad was telling the truth, then there was the chance that all of this was just a bad dream. They’d wipe it out of memory and start again.

“How do you explain that?” I pointed to the thumb drive on the table. I hated how my voice came out screechy and desperate. I took a step closer, hoping to pick it back up.

Dad swept it up and put it in his pocket like he was a magician making it disappear. “It’s just a blank data key. Your brain is filling in the rest.”

My stomach rocketed to the floor. Would the copy in my e-mail be enough proof? “Plug it in, prove it.” I hadn’t planned to pull it out and show it to him. When Josh didn’t believe me, I wanted to make him realize I was telling the truth. Now my showing off was going to cost me. He was going to make the only hard evidence I had disappear, and I’d handed it right to him. The situation was spinning out of control. I wanted to
kick myself for being so stupid, for thinking that he wouldn’t do it again.

Dad turned to Josh. “I’ll be glad to show you there’s nothing on here, if you need confirmation. I know this is upsetting, but I need you to be logical. What makes more sense, that there’s some conspiracy to keep things hidden or that she’s unwell? The important thing is that we do what’s needed for Harper. If you need to see it, we’ll take the time to go look.”

I knew what he was doing. He was manipulating it so that Josh would have to ask to see it, to question him. He was implying that my idea was absurd and didn’t even merit checking out any more than checking under the bed made sense when a kid was scared of monsters. Josh never questioned my dad; no one at Neurotech did.

I whirled to face Josh. “You’re not going to let him do this, are you?”

“Maybe we should take some time,” Josh hedged.

“If we don’t treat her soon, I’m afraid the delusions will move into her long-term memory. If that happens, she could have serious long-term psychological problems.” My dad’s face was serious, his eyes locked onto Josh. He was ignoring me.

“Can’t you see what he’s doing? Or do you see it and want to agree because it gets you what you want?” I barked out a laugh. “Wow, I guess you’re more like him than I imagined.”

Dad clapped his hand on Josh’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Josh. She doesn’t mean what she’s saying.”

Josh’s eyes were glassy, filling with tears. “I know.”

When Josh wouldn’t look at me, I knew I’d lost. “I’ll scream,” I threatened.

“Go ahead. You won’t be the first PTSD patient who had the procedure in a crisis mode.” He pressed his mouth into a firm line. “When they were done with the treatment, they were better too. I know you’re upset, but hold on to the idea of recovery. You’ll be back to yourself in no time.” He picked up my purse and pulled out my phone and car keys. He unlocked my phone and started to look at something on there. I wanted to grab it back from him, but I knew he’d pull back before I could reach it. I’d had to give my parents the password to my phone or they wouldn’t let me have one. It was their way of making sure I didn’t get involved in some sexting scandal. My dad’s fingers flew across the screen. He smiled, and my stomach turned; he’d found something. He jabbed at the phone and turned it off. He put both the phone and the keys in his pocket.

“What did you do?” I demanded. Unease rippled up my spine. “Give me my phone.”

Dad’s expression was impossible to read. “I knew your e-mail password would be Harry’s full name.”

Josh’s face wrinkled up as he tried to understand what had happened.

I felt light-headed. He’d deleted my e-mail copy. I was sure of it. I didn’t have any proof. He was going to get away with it. “I hate you,” I said.

“I know. But you won’t. This will all be behind us soon.” Dad gestured to Josh to walk ahead of him to the door. The two of them stepped out, and the door clicked shut behind them.

I yanked on the door. It was locked. I pounded on the door with my fists. Adrenaline was flooding my system. I had to do something. I heard them moving away down the hall. I ran around the table and looked out the tall windows. There was someone crossing the parking lot. I beat on the window. It made a quiet thumping sound, but must not have been loud enough for anyone to hear. My glance flickered over the chairs. If I hurled one at the glass, would it break, or was it some kind of safety glass? Even if I could break the glass, I was up too high to jump.

I heard voices in the hallway, and the door pinged as the electronic lock opened again. I backed up against the window. Josh was standing there, my dad right behind him.

“I thought you might be cold.” Josh held out his lab coat. “The air conditioner is on high and you only have on short sleeves. You can take this while you wait.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” I said. I wished there were a glass or water I could throw at his face.

“Come along, Josh, I told you to let her be. Go home and leave this with me. I’m sorry you had to see her like this.” Dad motioned for him to walk away from the door. I thought about rushing straight for them, but I knew I wouldn’t make it.

“Please let me do this for you,” Josh pleaded. He held out
the coat again. I was about to tell him off when I noticed the intensity in his eyes. He was staring at me, his mouth tight. His head gave the smallest of nods.

“Okay.” A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the air conditioning.

Josh put his lab coat on the back of the closest chair.

Dad guided him out of the room without saying another word to me. I waited until I heard their footsteps disappear back down the hall. I carefully picked up the lab coat and slid it on. It was still warm from Josh’s body. I might have been wrong. He might not have been trying to tell me anything. There was just a second there when I’d thought that while he might not stand up to my dad, he might still do something to help me. That when my dad had made that comment about my e-mail, he’d known something wasn’t right. I slid my hand in the lab coat pocket.

My breath let out in a slow whistle. I pulled it out. It was Josh’s key card.