Will You Remember Me Sarah Mclachlan Novels & Stories

Why does Sarah occupy my mind all of the time? Why do I see the face of Sarah whenever I close my eyes? Although she is no longer here now, why do I hear her voice echoing around within the house? Her presence remained as a ghost everywhere. A faint scent that was of her perfume did cling to the upholstery as the distant memory that was of her laughter filled up all of the halls. Her departure made quiet moments heavy even, as if the mansion mourned her absence. My thoughts were interrupted on account of my phone having buzzed. I glanced upon the screen. The name of my best friend was flashing, and it was seen by me.

Antoine watched Camille, his eyes filled with concern and curiosity. Camille’s emotions surged, and tears began to roll down her cheeks, salty and bittersweet. How long had it been since she last remembered the scent of her mother’s lily of the valley? How long had it been since she felt the vibrant essence of fragrance, the subtle bond between scent and memory? 'Muse' didn’t just analyze the scent—it awakened a corner of her mind she thought lost forever. It allowed her to 'see' images again, to 'hear' sounds, and to feel the delicate stirrings of emotions she believed had disappeared for good.

I can't help but stare at myself in the mirror while brushing my teeth. What if I am indeed from Rema? Dissociative amnesia. I suffer from dissociative amnesia, so I can't recall my childhood memories. I didn't expect everything to be that complicated. I only want to find Shena, but right now... I'm at a loss on what to do initially.

She placed her parents in the rescue narrative as if she were reciting a script. Rowan listened, face still. When she reached the cabin scene, he asked, “What color was the rag.” She blinked. “Blue.” “We never owned a blue rag,” Rowan said. “The infirmary uses white linen.” Her smile held. “You’re misremembering. Trauma—” He opened the folder and slid the ledgers and bank receipts toward her. “Then correct the ledger. Correct the witnesses. Explain the transfers.” She didn’t touch the papers. “Rowan, if you’ve convinced yourself—”

"W-What's wrong with you?" I slowly raised my head and looked at her face, the same one I had looked at for three years. Every time she failed to recognize me, I would patiently reintroduce myself. Whether it was the first, 100th, or the 677th time, I had never grown tired of it because I knew she was sick. But now… "She's dead, Giselle. My sister's dead. The innocent woman you'd dragged out of the hospital today is dead," I said slowly, each word felt like it was being carved out of my chest.

Out of all the people in the world. Sarah. My maid from my previous life, I can only stare at her, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me, coincidences like this simply do not happen. She looks exactly as I remember, the same gentle brown eyes and the same neatly tied hair and calm expression she always wears whenever she comes to assist me. Only this time, she has no idea who I am or rather, she has no idea who I used to be, the shock must be written all over my face because she hesitates for a brief second before lowering her head respectfully.

I asked, feeling a mix of confusion and longing for a connection that felt just out of reach. Sarah smiled softly, “I don’t know... Your body took a toll because of what happened recently, and your power, which had been hidden for so long, finally awakened. But don’t worry; once you see him again, everything will come flooding back to you.” Her words offered a glimmer of hope in the midst of my uncertainty, making me feel a sense of calm despite the storm raging inside me. “You remember me, right?” Sarah asked, her voice filled with a hint of concern as she searched my eyes for any sign of recognition. The pressure to remember intensified as I struggled to recall any trace of familiarity in

Every sound he made was lodged deep in her memory, an echo she couldn’t forget, a temptation she didn’t want to resist. But reality intruded, who she was, Sarah, a renowned cardio-thoracic surgeon, a woman who had survived heartbreak, divorce, and a career where mistakes could cost lives. She wasn’t some reckless girl chasing a fantasy. And yet, her body betrayed her, recalling each sensation with vivid, merciless clarity.

Opening the grimoire, I found the page where I had left off and looked for the next entry and began to read it… It’s been a few days now since I have seen Christopher and I wonder if I had done something wrong to keep him from me. I feel a fire within me that calls to him and I wonder if I have been given a second chance at love. Either way I will never know if he stops coming around. Sarah on the other hand has been a good friend to me and I don’t feel so lonely when she is around. It is as if she eases my mind when she is around and I feel free from what is bothering. I’m wondering if Sarah is using her gift on me by taking away the painful memories temporarily from me while I am with her.

But I swiped the screen anyway. "LEAH MORETTI!" Sarah's voice was loud enough to hurt my ears. "You forgot me! You absolutely forgot me! I thought we were sisters!" "I didn't forget you—" "I've been calling for days! Days! And nothing!" Sarah's voice was loud, excited, and slightly angry. "You forgot me. Your best friend in the entire world. Is it because you're now engaged to the Devil of the North?” "N-no. Sarah, I am so sorry," I said, wincing at her volume. "Everything has been moving so fast. I promise I will be at the agency tomorrow morning, and I will tell you everything."