Chapter Eight - Bryce

I get up early in the morning and leave for work. I’m glad that I do. It gives me a chance to avoid Tanya. We haven’t talked since her little comment when we were getting out of the elevator. It didn’t make me mad. I just don’t know what to say about it.

I step into my office before Karen arrives for work. My cell phone rings as I get ready for the day. I pull it out of my shirt pocket and see that the number says "unknown." I answer it anyway.

            “Hello.”

            “Memories can kill. Maybe it’s better that she doesn’t remember.” A voice says over the phone.

            “Who is this?”

            There’s no answer, the line goes dead. I hang up the phone and stare at it as if that’s going to make the number appear, or the caller call back. Then it hits me that I'd better call Mikey. I dial his number.

            “What’s up, Bryce?”

            “I got a strange call.”

            “And?”

            “And the caller told me that maybe it’s better that Tanya doesn’t remember because memories can kill.”

            “Did you recognize the voice?”

            “No.”

            “Did a number appear?”

            “No.”

            “Shit.”

            “What’s the matter?”

            “I was hoping that your caller wasn’t smart enough to use a burner phone. That might make it untraceable. Has Tanya remembered anything?”

            “Not since yesterday, Mikey.”

            “Look, I understand that the other doctors think that it’s okay not to tell her anything, but I don’t agree. She seems to be in danger, and she needs to know that.”

            “You may be right, but we can’t tell her everything. If her brain is blocking out information, then it’s not ready to handle it.”

            “Are you sure you’re worried about her brain or you when she remembers?”

            “Both.”

            “Secrets are never good.”

            “I understand, but I just don’t think she will be able to deal with everything.”

            “Okay, I get it, but we should at least explain to her that she’s in danger. I told her that she was hit by a car.”

            “But you didn’t tell her everything.”

            “Of course, I didn’t tell her everything, but we need to explain that the car hit her on purpose.”

“At least you think it did.”

“Whatever. She needs to know.”

“Fine. I’ll tell her tonight.”

“I think I should be there, Bryce.”

“Why Mikey?”

“Because I have a feeling, she’s going to have questions for a cop, and if she remembers anything important, then I want to know about it right away.”

“Fine, come over for dinner.” That’s the last thing I say to my brother before hanging up.

           

Tanya

I wake up and realize that it’s late in the day. Well, it’s not that late in the day. It’s noon time. I get up and shower. After that, I towel off and lotion my body with the shea butter and coconut butter lotion that Bryce brought me. I walk over to the drawer that has panties and bras in it.  I pull out a brown lace set. I'm surprised when I put them on that they fit.

I then walk over to the closest and pull out a pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt that fits. Everything fits like a glove as I finish dressing, a knock sounds at the door. “Come in.”

In walks Rita with something in her hand. “I’m not sure if you were looking for something in the mail, but you received something.”

“Me. That’s funny. I don’t know anyone, and no one knows that I’m here.”

“Someone does,” Rita states as she hands me the envelope. “Are you ready for lunch?”

“Sure. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all. Come down when you're finished.” Rita turns to leave but stops. She turns back to face me. “I almost forgot Mr. Clark wanted to let you know that he has someone coming over to help you with your hair.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

When Rita steps out of the room, I open the envelope. I check the front and see who it’s addressed to first. It was just my first name and the address, so I tore into it. When I look at it, I wish I hadn’t.

“YOU CAN’T TRUST HIM OR YOUR MEMORIES.”

The statement is spelled out in cut-out letters. I drop the letter to the floor. The first letter scared me, but this one scares me more because now it’s telling me that I can’t trust my memory. If I can’t trust that or Bryce, then what can I trust? Who the hell is sending me these letters? I pick the letter off the floor and place it in the drawer next to the bed.