Back You Will Remember Me Save as PDF
Chapters (48)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. EPILOGUE
  44. ACKNOWLEGMENTS
  45. Reader Guide
  46. Questions For Discussion
  47. A Conversation With Hannah Mary Mckinnon
  48. Excerpt

Jack—Ash, he said he was Ash—was alive. Finding him had been something I’d barely dared dream of, something I’d played out only in my wildest imagination. The discovery had also brought home how much I’d given up on him, and while I hadn’t wanted to admit it, I’d resigned myself to the fact that Jack—damn it, Ash—was gone. Regardless of his name, it made me feel like a traitor, and I wondered if he’d sensed my abandonment somehow. Was that why he hadn’t come home? It was a stupid theory. He had amnesia. He’d had no idea who I was, had looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. A tightness wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed hard.

Sitting in my car I put my head back and closed my eyes, trying to untangle my emotions, but every way I turned, a new, stronger and more confusing one jumped out. I was overjoyed Jack was alive. Pissed he’d come to Maine (how ridiculous, he’d lost his memory, for God’s sake). Frustrated he hadn’t recognized me. Frightened of the answers I’d come here for. Terrified that I might lose him all over again, but...he’d lied to me. Perhaps cutting him loose was the best thing for both of us. I took a deep breath. I hadn’t thought it possible for me to have so much going on inside my head without it exploding.

“Imagine how he’s feeling,” I whispered. “Imagine what it’s like for him.”

I needed to share the news about Jack being alive with someone, and reached for my phone, about to call Sam, deciding to alert Heron afterward. Before pressing Sam’s number, I played out the calls in my mind. Any relief and elation would soon switch to bewilderment and doubt as soon as I explained Jack Smith was really Asher Bennett, and he was suffering from retrograde amnesia. How could I tell them anything when I didn’t know the full story? Besides, what if Heron arranged for someone from the local police department to interview him? He’d been so confused when I found him, I didn’t have the right to put him through more.

I dropped my phone into my bag. I’d wait until after I’d spoken to him, and no doubt Maya could help with more information.