Where the Pear Blossoms Fell

After being diagnosed with a progressive autobiographical memory disorder, I learned to keep a journal every day.

While I still remembered, I wrote down what I needed to do the next morning.

I opened the notebook with practiced hands and checked yesterday's entries.

[Day Seven of Memory Loss. I'm forgetting more things.]

[One: I have to stop loving Graham Ellsworth.]

[Two: Mom and Dad won't fund my wedding. Report to Orchard Spoon Dessert House at ten and earn my own savings. Address: Juniper Lane, Old Market District.]

Several more lines were faintly visible below, but water had blurred the ink past reading.

They might have been my tears.

I didn't remember why I'd cried the day before.

I didn't dwell on it.

No one but me would have cared.

I didn't dare tell anyone about the diagnosis either.

I was the Winslows' biological daughter, but I wasn't wanted in their house. If I said anything, my parents would only complain that they'd recovered a defective child who embarrassed the family.

I put the notebook away and got ready to leave for work.

As I reached the main living room, I heard laughter inside.

My parents, their adopted daughter Marissa, and...

I stared for several seconds before I remembered that the cold-looking man was my fiance, Graham Ellsworth.

He'd never looked pleased to see me, and now his disgust was unmistakable.

"Get over here and apologize to Marissa.

"Mr. and Mrs. Winslow transferred her bridal trust yesterday, and you paid them back by pouring boiling water over her arm. Elise, how can you be this vicious?"

I looked at Marissa's smooth, uninjured arm and couldn't remember scalding her.

What I did have was a savage burn along the inside of my calf, there when I woke that morning.

I kept staring at her without saying anything.

My mother lost patience and shoved me hard.

"Apologize, you useless girl. Stop pretending to be confused."

I stumbled backward.

My knee cracked against the edge of a marble console, hard enough that the pain went white and I nearly went down.

Graham caught my arm before I fell.

The instant I had my balance back, he let go.

He wiped his hand with a pocket square and reminded me coldly,

"Apologize. Now."

I could see that none of them liked me, but I couldn't remember any of it.

I had no explanation.

So I bent forward obediently and apologized to Marissa.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to spill hot water on you.

"I'll be more careful next time."

Marissa waved one hand, clearly pleased.

"Fine. I'll let it go this time. If it happens again..."

"If it happens again, I'll send you back to the foster farm you grew up on, and you'll never set foot in this house again."

My mother had rushed to finish the threat for her.

Then she waved me off like she was dismissing an employee.

"That's enough. Go, if you've got nothing useful to say. That vacant expression makes me furious."

My eyes stung, but I forced the tears back.

I told myself everything would get better once I married and left the estate.

I'd taken only two steps when Marissa called after me.

"Elise, wait.

"There's one more thing."