Graham takes a long swig from his water glass. “Let’s eat.”
I pile a stack of noodles onto my plate and Graham does the same. For fifteen minutes, we eat in complete silence. I wonder if that’s what we usually do, or if the conversation flows readily. What can I talk about? Current events? The latest movies? Music? All those topics are difficult for me.
I suppose we could talk about stuff from the past. But I can’t remember any of our shared past. And I can’t remember what conversations we’ve had before. I’m scared anything I say to him will be something I’ve already said dozens of times before. It’s awkward.
So instead, I decide to opt for some small talk. I wrack my brain, trying to think of some mundane topic that will be at least a little interesting.
“The food is pretty good at this place,” I finally say.
Graham nods. “It’s your favorite Thai restaurant.”
“I have good taste then.”
I had hoped he’d laugh at my little attempt at levity, but instead, he furrows his brow. “Tess, I’m sorry I had to take your phone.”
“It’s fine. You’re right. I probably would lose it during the night.”
“Yes but…” He looks troubled. “I’m your husband, not your father. I shouldn’t be telling you what to do. But… you do lose your phone whenever I let you keep it. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” And I do. Sort of. “But… you say I usually get confused at night…”
He nods. “Very confused. Sometimes you even forget your own name.”
A little shiver goes down my spine. “But that’s the thing. I don’t feel…”
I had been about to tell him that I don’t feel confused. But just as the words are coming out of my mouth, I realize that my tongue feels heavy. A wave of dizziness washes over me, and for a moment, I almost feel too tired to pick up my fork and take another bite.
“Tess?”
“I’m okay.” I shake my head and my right temple throbs. “I just feel a little tired.”
And that’s when I realize my words have started to slur like I’ve had a few too many drinks. If I didn’t feel so tired, I might panic. Despite my memory loss, I’ve felt fairly normal today. But suddenly, my brain feels like it’s in a complete fog.
“Graham…” My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “There’s something wrong with me.”
Graham’s eyes soften. “I told you—this happens every night. You get more confused as the evening goes on. That’s why I wanted to put your phone away.”
My eyelids feel almost leaden. I don’t know how I got so tired. Twenty minutes ago, I felt fine. Is this my brain shutting down for the night? And resetting, getting rid of all the memories I acquired today…
I don’t want that. I don’t want to forget today. I don’t want to forget Graham and Ziggy. But I already feel it slipping away from me.
I take another gulp of water, hoping the cold liquid will clear my head. It doesn’t help.
“Do you still want to watch a movie?” he asks gently. “Or we can go straight to sleep if you’d like…”
“I…”
I don’t want to go to bed. No, no, no. I need to remember. There’s something I need to remember.
I take another sip of water. The last drops of liquid from the cup slide down my throat. It’s almost becoming hard to swallow. Does this happen every night?
“I’m tired,” I manage.
“I know, Tess.” Graham reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. His hand is soft and warm. I’m lucky to have him. What would I do otherwise? I’d have to be in an institution. Thank God for Graham. Thank God. “Let’s get you to bed.”
I stare down at my water glass in front of me. I consumed nearly every drop of the water, but the glass isn’t quite empty. Instead, there’s a little white film in the bottom of the glass. Like a fine white powder.
Oh my God.
Something was in my drink.
Chapter 17
It’s at the tip of my tongue. Some memory that I can almost grasp but not quite. I can almost hear the words coming out of my mouth. It’s something I said before. To somebody else. In the past.
I think Graham is secretly drugging me.
That white film at the bottom of my glass. Why is there a white film in my glass? It was just water. Wasn’t it?
Graham is drugging me, Harry. Every night. You’ve got to help me. Please.
“Tess?”
Graham is staring across the table at me. There’s concern in his blue eyes, but there’s also something else. Something menacing.
I think of the digits scribbled on my arm. The person who contacted me this morning to warn me about him. Harry. It wasn’t just my imagination. Those messages were real. Now I understand why Graham took my phone away.
“I’m going to get more water,” I blurt out.
Before he can protest, I jump out of my seat and stumble to the kitchen. I nearly trip over my right foot, but I make it there. Graham disappeared into the kitchen with my phone. It’s got to be in here somewhere. And once I find it, I can call for help.
I open drawers haphazardly. I’m not even attempting to close them again. What’s the difference? He’s going to know what I’ve been doing. He’s going to know it when he sees the phone. My only chance is to find it before he comes looking for me. And I’ve got to call the number on my arm. And hope Harry picks up.
Or maybe I should just call 911.
“For God’s sake, Tess, what the hell are you doing?”
Graham is standing at the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes wide behind his glasses. I yank open the drawer in front of me and look down, hoping my phone is inside. But it’s mostly just rubber bands and pens.
“Tess?”
Ziggy is scraping at the back door. But he can’t get in, and I can’t get out, because the door is locked from the inside.
“I asked you a question, Tess.” He arches an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.” My words are so slurred, it surprises me. Even if I found my phone and called for help, anyone would think I had a severe brain injury. And Graham has the paperwork to prove it. Nobody would believe my story. “I was just…”