Part I: The Second Note (Psychological Thriller)
Mara found the second note taped inside the medicine cabinet, behind a bottle of cough syrup.
You're looking for truth. Stop. Truth is a splinter. Once it's in, you can't pull it out.
The basement has a freezer. Not for food.
If you go down there, go alone. Cass will try to stop you. Let him.
—You. Two days from now.
She read it three times. Two days from now? That meant she had written this before losing her memory. Which meant she had known she would forget. Which meant she had planned for it.
Planned for what?
She folded the note and put it in her sock. Then she splashed water on her face and looked at the woman in the mirror. The scar above her eyebrow. The grey in her hair. The eyes that had seen too much.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
The woman didn't answer.
---
Part II: The Walk to the Park (Literary Interlude)
Cass took her to the park. A small green square with a rusted swingset and one bench facing a pond. Ducks floated. A child flew a kite shaped like a dragon.
"You proposed here," Cass said. "Eight years ago. It was November. You were wearing a red coat and you'd lost one glove. You said, 'Cass, I don't need a ring. I just need you to promise you'll never lie to me.'"
"Did you promise?"
"Yes."
"Have you kept it?"
He picked up a stone and skipped it across the pond. One, two, three, four skips. Then it sank.
"The night before your first memory loss," he said, "you told me something I can't repeat. Not because I'm lying. Because if I told you, you'd leave. And I can't lose you again."
Mara watched the ripples fade. "That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
A duck paddled toward them. She wanted to believe him. Her body wanted to lean into his shoulder. But the note in her sock felt like a lit match.
"Cass," she said, "what's in the freezer?"
He stopped breathing for half a second. Then he stood up. "Let's go home."
---
Part III: The Man in the Gray Jacket (Action Seed)
They walked back in silence. At the corner of Maple and Second, the man in the gray jacket was leaning against a lamppost. This time, he wasn't pretending to look at his phone.
He was looking directly at Mara.
She stopped. "Who is that?"
Cass grabbed her elbow. Not hard. Firm. "Keep walking."
"He's following us."
"He's following you. And he's not the only one."
She turned her head. Across the street, a woman in a red hat was also watching. Standing perfectly still. Both of them. Watching.
Cass pulled her into an alley. "When I say run, you run. Don't look back."
"Why would I run from strangers?"
"Because they're not strangers. They're the reason you forget."
He let go of her elbow. She looked at his face—the scar, the tired eyes, the fear he was trying to hide.
"Run," he said.
She ran.
Behind her, footsteps. Two sets. Three.
She didn't look back.