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Chapter 17

Clarissa jerked awake with a loud gasp, her hands clamping a handful of the bed sheet In a vice like grip. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, sliding down her face in trickles.

Her head hurt.

It felt like someone was pounding a hammer unrelentingly on her head. Bile rose to her throat and before she knew it, she was racing across her room and into the bathroom. Barely making it to the WC, she began hauling everything in her gut until there was nothing else to puke.

She slid to the floor of the bathroom and leaned on the bowl of toilet, heaving. Raising the hem of her blouse, she wiped her lips of the remainder of her puke.

Her mind raced a mile a minute.

The dream? Memory?

She was at loss of what to refer to that little revelation as.

It had been real… had looked real.

What else could she be missing? What other memory had Chuck made her lose? How many other lies had he fed people before he had been convicted?

Temporary amnesia. They had called it temporary amnesia stemming from a
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