“I don’t know, Scarlett. I really think you should talk to your parents.”
I shook my head. “No. No way they would hold that back. I know them and they would never pretend a child they had didn’t exist. Also, Jeremy would have asked about her growing up and he didn’t.”
“Exactly. She couldn’t have been their daughter. You need to speak to your parents.”
I nodded. “I know.” It just wasn’t that easy.
Scarlett
“HI, SCARLETT,” BETHAN said, pushing a plate of cookies towards me and Noah.
“Hey. Thanks,” I replied, taking one with a big cluster of chocolate chips on top and trying not to yawn. Since I started dreaming – always the same ones – I’ve been tired almost all of the time. Every night I’d wake up in the early hours, sweating over seeing flames and feeling emotionally drained over worrying who Evelyn was and why Mum was never herself.
This morning, I’d jumped awake when flames encased Evelyn, she still looked at me and then followed Jeremy through the fire until I couldn’t see either of them anymore. I was terrified and panting and knew there was no way I would get back to sleep whether it was five in the morning or not.
No matter where I was or what I was doing, something brought me back to her. Any little girl with a similar shade of light brown hair and big blue eyes would shoot Evelyn to the forefront of my mind for the rest of the day. It was too irrational to feel…close to someone I couldn’t remember. I had no idea who Evelyn was but I knew she was important and that I cared about her.
Noah sat on the stool beside me, leaning over so our arms were touching. I loved it when he did that.
I was completely healed and just in time for school to start up again. I was still going crazy over not remembering but Noah said when he thought I was completely better he’d try to help. Right now I was just enjoying spending time with him and seeing my friends again. I wanted to be normal for a while and not let Evelyn consume my thoughts.
“How was school?” Bethan asked.
“It was alright,” Noah replied. “What’s for dinner?”
“Casserole. Are you staying, Scarlett?”
“If that’s okay?”
Bethan smiled, leaning on the counter. “Of course it is. It’s strange when you are not here.”
Yeah, me and Noah were joined at the hip, but I was pretty sure he was my future husband, so I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.
“You should let her stay over then,” Noah said, stroking his hand up and down my back.
Bethan smirked. “Nice try.”
I wondered how long before they would let us stay over at each other’s. It would be so cool to wake up and at least be in the same house as him. But I doubted that was happening before I was eighteen.
“Anyway, we have to go,” Noah said.
“Shopping, right?” Bethan asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “We’ll try to be back for dinner unless Scarlett can’t find the right shade of lipstick, then we’ll be late.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as he winked. He knew I didn’t even wear lipstick. What he didn’t know, though, was that we weren’t going shopping. I was taking control of my memory problem and trying something that wouldn’t hurt my parents. They were a last resort.
After the sleepless nights had rolled on, I knew writing my dreams down wasn’t helping. I never saw anything new when I was asleep. I had the same dreams over and over. What I needed was professional help, so I’d made an appointment.
“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll save you some if you are not back. Whatever happens remember to have Scarlett home by nine, even if you are later.”
He nodded. “Always.” We wouldn’t be back that late, though. Noah was so strict when it came to getting me home on time. He was determined to respect my parents’ rules and not lose their trust. It was sweet and a lot easier than Imogen and her ex where her parents hated him.
Noah took my hand as we walked to the bus stop, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Yeah, all that hurts is my ribs if I twist suddenly or lift something too heavy. The rest of me is fine.”
“That’s good. And don’t lift anything heavy.”
“You sound like my dad. I won’t.”
Noah looked at the timetable and frowned. “I thought you said the bus was at three forty-five?”
“It is.”
“Not one that goes into town.”
“Yeah, we’re not actually getting that one.”
His eyebrow arched. “Which one are we getting?”
“Can you just get on it and not ask until we’re there? Trust me.”
He bent forwards and kissed me. “Alright.”
The fact that Noah trusted so completely and wholeheartedly was one of the things I loved most about him.
“Thank you.”