Forget Me Not: A gripping, heart-wrenching thriller full of emotion and twists!. A. Taylor M.
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СКАЧАТЬ “Cool. I just wanted to come say hi.” She walks over to the window and stares out at the evening, which is a perfect dusky purple. “How are you doing?”

       “Fine.”

       “Mom and Dad are really worried.” She turns to look at me finally, staring me down, which I can tell she’s been wanting to do the entire time. Serena isn’t a stareoutth‌ewindowattheevening kind of girl. That’s me. Or at a push Cordy, but definitely not Serena. “I’m worried too. I thought you’d gone back to school. I thought things were better.”

       “They got worse again.”

       “Can you tell me why?”

       I have no idea how to tell her, so I just stay silent. She sighs, padding over to the bookshelf.

       “Have you read anything recently? Maybe that would help you feel better.”

      Several words, hell an entire sentence even, rise up inside me but end up getting trapped somewhere in my chest, so again I say nothing. Serena’s eyes drift along the bank of books, taking them all in until something stops her in her perusing. I stuffed the note in between two books rather than tearing it up and throwing it away, which I’m now regretting. She pulls it out from between The Return of the King and The Silmarillion and stares down at it before turning to look at me. My face is stuck to the pillow. I haven’t moved since she walked into the room.

       “What is this, Mads?”

       “An anonymous missive from a concerned classmate.”

       “Maddie.” She’s staring down at it again, her eyes drawing in on themselves. “Have you told anyone about this? Shown it to anyone?”

       “No.”

       “Why the hell not?”

       I finally push myself up, leaning my head back against the headboard and closing my eyes. “Because it doesn’t matter. That’s not the problem, Serena, just a symptom.”

       “This is really fucking serious,” she says, “this is aggressive. Horrible. They’re telling you to kill yourself.”

       My eyes snap open, and Serena is staring right at me, her grey-blue eyes headlights in the near-dark of my bedroom. “It’s nothing,” I say, my voice a rubber band suddenly stretched too far. “Just some sick, psycho jock trying to hurt me.”

       “Has this happened to Angela too?”

       “I don’t know.” I wonder suddenly what Ange might be keeping from me in light of what I’m keeping from her.

       “So, you literally haven’t told anyone?”

       “No.”

       “Well, I’m sorry but I have to tell Mom and Dad.”

       I don’t say anything as she walks out of the room, evidence in hand. I rearrange my pillows and slide back down the bed. The world isn’t any less demanding from this position but at least when it asks its impossible questions I’m not forced to come up with an answer.

       I close my eyes.

      After leaving Jenna, I headed over to the Altmans’. Katherine was a small woman, with none of the height and strength I always associated with Nora. Noelle looked more like her although she was much taller. The same fine features, with Katherine’s dark brown eyes and chestnut hair, rather than Nora’s deep-blue eyes and almost raven hair. We hugged silently and when she released me about a thousand different words remained stuck in my throat and all I could manage was: “I’m so sorry.”

      Katherine nodded and folded her arms across her chest. Her face was a strained white, with no make-up and purplish, bruised-like bags under her eyes.

      “Nate asked me to come sit with Noah. I think-I think he thought you guys might appreciate the help.” I inwardly cringed at the inadequacy of my words. Of all words.

      “Of course. Thank you, Maddie. We have to … we have to go to the police station. For questioning.”

      I raised my eyebrows and followed her into the house. “For questioning?”

      Katherine sighed heavily as she pushed through the door to the kitchen at the back of the house. Beyond the kitchen island there was a vast window that overlooked the snow-filled garden. It was quiet and white, with a cold, icy beauty. Completely untouched. Most backyards would bear some trace of the human—childish—touch. Piled up drifts of snow where snowmen have melted, dislodged snow on the climbing frame or swing set, the disintegrating outline of a playful snow angel. A trail of footprints at the very least. But there was none of that in the Altmans’ garden. I guess Noah wasn’t much for playing, despite being only ten years old.

      Katherine scraped a chair back along the tiled floor of the kitchen and sat down. She pointed towards the coffee maker to indicate that I could help myself, and I set about making us a pot.

      “They let us have the evening but they want us to come in and answer questions about when we last saw Elle. We’re not suspects,” she added, before saying even more quietly, “yet.”

      I turned to look at her, both of us clearly thinking about her eldest son, who had been arrested, although never charged, when Nora first went missing. He hadn’t been able to produce a solid enough alibi, or so the cops had claimed, but when no other evidence turned up, and no body either, he was released without charge.

      “Is Nate here?” I asked.

      “Downstairs, I think. He’s … we’re … we have to leave in a few minutes,” she said, finally finishing her sentence. Her mouth was straight and taut, pulled thinly against the pale skin of her face. “Thank you for coming, Maddie,” she said quietly, “it really means a lot.”

      I looked around the kitchen and noticed how bare, almost barren, it was. There were no bouquets of flowers, no letters or notes of condolence. When Nora went missing, someone inexplicably sent the family an enormous brown-furred teddy bear with a bright red bow tie proudly fixed around its chunky neck. It sat in the corner of the living room for a few days before migrating down to the kids’ basement rec room, its cuddly, warm presence too much of an incongruence for the family room. Maybe there simply hadn’t been enough time for the flowers and the cards and the inappropriate plush toys to begin to flood in. Or maybe they never would. Maybe no one knew how to react, how to express comfort and sympathy, compassion and condolence to a family that had already lost so much. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Maybe people had already started talking, hushed tones hiding dark thoughts and malicious accusations. Either way, I suddenly felt extremely empty-handed. When the aroma of fresh coffee began to fill the desolate kitchen I sighed with perceptible relief. It wasn’t much, but at least I could make Katherine a cup of her own coffee.

      “Thanks,” Katherine said as I handed her the mug. “Noah’s upstairs. I think he might still be asleep to be honest.”

      I raised my eyebrows at that; it was already well past noon.

      “You’ll СКАЧАТЬ