The Memory Painter

“What I’m feeling?” She jerked away from him. “No you don’t. I just read old diaries suggesting my father is Dr. Evil. Hell, you wrote them. Right?” She searched his face. “What happened after this?”

Bryan kept silent. Linz stared at the journals, hating them, hating Bryan, hating herself for feeling what she felt. A bitter seed of doubt about her father had now been planted inside her and she could not stop its growth.

She paced up and down the room, becoming more distraught as she tried to expel the implications of Michael’s journals. “If reincarnation is real, maybe I haven’t always been a saint either. Maybe I’ve killed. Maybe I’d become confused, crazy if I remembered everything at once. Who are we to judge?” She angrily wiped away her tears. “How do you even know my father did anything? How can you be sure I’m even Diana?”

“Don’t get angry at me. You read it yourself. Diana’s memories of Juliana are the same as your dreams.”

“So you expect me to believe the worst of my father without any proof? Well I won’t.”

“Finn thinks if Conrad knew who I was, he’d kill me,” Bryan countered.

Linz barked out a laugh. “Please, now that’s delusional.”

“He told me to leave town.”

“Fine. Go back to Canada. Do us all a favor.” She winced as she said it. She had never argued like this with anyone in her life.

Bryan had lost all of his patience. “Linz, I am trying to explain to you what the hell is going on. Stop being so damn defensive!” He grabbed her shoulders.

“Get your hands off me.” She wrenched herself away from him.

They stood three feet apart. Bryan was yelling loud enough for the neighbors to hear. “The problem is you don’t remember! And until you do, we’re going to have this wall between us that I can’t climb! All I can do is wait for you. And I will! I won’t go anywhere. I don’t care what the hell happens to me. I’ll wait!” He threw on his jacket and began to leave.

Linz had never seen him so livid. But a part of her took grim satisfaction in it. She wanted him to hurt as much as she did. “Hey,” she called out. Bryan turned around, a slight look of hope on his face. Instead she held out the journals. “Get these out of my house.”

Bryan took them and left without another word. Linz slammed the door behind him—and her eyes settled on the Renovo file. It was sitting on her coffee table. She needed more answers than Michael’s journals had provided and the scientist within her knew this would be the best place to look.

Galvanized, she opened the file and read every page. An hour later, she read it again, this time taking notes at lightning speed, her mind in overdrive as she worked to break down the formula. She could see now that this was the only way.

When she was finished, she gathered her computer, her keys, and the file with quick efficiency. She was ready to get her proof.

*