came with more si

ekeeper, middle-aged with a neat bun and lowered gaze, was placing a vase of fl

he said, bowing her head

"Good morning," she replied, her v

, then hesitated.

no images came. Emma offered a hesitant

or you and Mr. Crane for nearl

familiarity, anything-but Lucinda kept her eyes trained some

hing," Emma said softly. "It feels l

eakfast-cut fruit, toast, and tea. "If you need anything, you can rin

he woman's body language... or respect? The line b

ger entered her room. This one wo

ed. "I'm Dr. Harold Nunez. I've been over

a memory, but came up blank. "

want to reassure you that your memory loss is a known effect of trauma-specifically, you suffered a concussion during the crash. T

d the crash?" she asked

e. It wasn't sabotage or anything malicious," he added quic

n't comf

husband-he wa

tated. "No. Yo

chest intensified.

. Mr. Blackwood said he wasn't aware you'd left the ho

ehearsed. Defensive. Emma

she confessed. "Everyone acts like

survivors. You're disoriented, Emma. Try not to overanalyze your surr

structions for the nurse, and then exited with the

dress with long sleeves-too formal for lounging, yet oddly familiar. She dr

e stretched like fog through the mansion. No laughter, no voices-just the occasional flicker of m

ut lifeless. She descended the grand staircase and wandered into a marble-floor

ht, his suit perfect as ever. When he turned t

king," he s

d I no

f a smile-or perhaps just acknowl

e I'm in someo

. "You've always hated feeling powerless. It'

at I was li

from her. "Strong. Stubbor

y he said unforgiving that ma

aintain her composure. "He said I was alone in

ddle of the night. No word. No note. You

as I u

ned away, walking toward the bar at the corn

not an

elf a drink. "But it's the on

chill through her. "Did we lov

Emma? Is it passion? Obsession? Sacrifice?" He stepped closer again, eyes locking wi

ack. "You're avoid

ng you from remembering thing

lence again, the air