Kara grabbed her phone. Dialed Nancy. She picked up on the first ring.
“He’s here,” she said. No hello. “He’s gaping. He doesn’t know me.”
A sharp inhale. Then Nancy’s voice, pure steel. “Address. Now.”
Kara gave it. She hung up.
Jon was rocking now. Small, awful movements. “I can’t remember. I can’t remember anything. My— my sister—”
“Lily,” Kara said before she could stop herself.
He froze. Looked up at me, tears in his eyes. “How do you know that name?”
Because you told me. Because you trust me. Because three days or three years, I’m yours.
“I just do,” she whispered. She Sat next to him. Not touching. But close. “You’re Jonathon Marsh. You’re CEO. You fixed typewriters when you were eighteen. You hate lorazepam. And you chose me.” Kara said quietly.
He stared at her, Bre
