All the fatigue was gone from my body. But I still couldn’t get out of bed. My heart was a lead anchor drowning in thick, black sorrow. Even though the sun shone brightly through the window, I couldn’t see the light of day.
Zane had left the villa two days ago. When I’d opened my eyes, the darkness had moved in. I spent my days in the bed, eyes shut, as I tried to call forth a past that continually slipped through my fingers.
The problem was with my hands, not the memories. The memories were all there, waiting for me to reach out and grab for them. It was my hands that were slippery. Whenever I tried to grab onto a memory, I couldn’t hold on. I wondered if I actually wanted to know every detail of my past.
I sat up in the bed when I heard the front door click open and then shut softly.
