Parker makes quick work buttoning his shirt and holds his palms out toward me. “You’ll have to help me,” he says. “As long as you can recall the memory, I’ll be able to take you to it.”
I slide my hands into his, and his fingers wrap around mine. “How?”
“Do you know what memory you want to enter?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Close your eyes and imagine you’re in it now. Replay it in your mind, slowly, taking in every detail.”
I shut my eyes, the memory of my mother beside the ocean vivid in my mind. Waves rush against the shore, and the sun warms my back. My mother’s fingers are cool against my skin as she fastens her chain around my neck.
“What stands out the most from that memory?” Parker asks.
My mother pulls me into her, and the air rushes from my lungs. I can almost feel her arms wrapped around me. I was safe. Loved. And I wasn’t alone. “The way I felt in her arms,” I say, my voice wavering.
Electricity bursts to life between our palms, flowing up my arms until it’s lapping at my chest, like warm, rising water.
“Focus on that feeling,” Parker says, and my body begins to pulse.
I can’t believe it. I’m going to see my mother. Tears well behind my closed eyelids. I have so many questions for her. About our life before she died, and the handsome stranger who visited her in the hospital. I draw in a deep breath, fighting the vibrating air inside my lungs.
I wait for the feeling to overcome me, for the temperature to shift or the ocean breeze to hit me. But nothing happens. Parker’s grip on my hands tightens, and another strong wave of his power floods through me. I keep my eyes closed, centering all my attention on my mother.
“Pick a different sense,” Parker says through gritted teeth after another minute has passed.
“Okay.” I breathe in, remembering the salty ocean breeze, the sweetness of coconut sunscreen, and my mother’s fresh, citrus scent.
“Good. I can smell it,” Parker says, his voice swelling with pride.
The surrounding air presses against my skin, every cell shuddering. Parker releases my hands and my eyes snap open.
My stomach drops. We’re still standing in Parker and Rose’s apartment. “What…” I trail off at the confusion on Parker’s face.
“Something’s wrong,” he says, slightly out of breath. “I can’t access the memory. It’s as if… there’s a wall blocking me.”
My shoulders fall. “Is it me? Am I doing something wrong?”
“No. Both times I could feel your echo.” His golden eyes scour the room. “Let’s try a different memory?”
He retakes my hands, and I focus on the memory of my mother in our apartment, peeking through the curtains. I stood by her bedroom door, feet bare against the cool wooden floor. Parker’s power rushes into me, but the room stays whole around us.
“Different sense,” he says between gritted teeth.
Canned laughter hums from the TV, and cars fly past on the street below.
“Another,” Parker says.
My mother’s olive dress brushing her slender calves. The fabric swishes as she shifts her balance from one foot to another.
Parker’s grip is tighter than before, his hands clammy against my skin. We go on like this for another half hour, swapping between senses and memories, until Parker is panting, sweat beading down his brow. He breaks away, bending forward to plant his hands on his knees.
“Something must be wrong with my powers,” he says, straightening and re-extending his palms toward me. “Try picking a memory without your mother.”
My gaze slides from the hands reaching toward me to his heaving chest. “Should you take a break?” I say.
He shakes his head. “What do you think we did at Neurovida all day long?”
My stomach knots at his cold tone, but I retake his hands and shut my eyes. Drawing in a deep breath, I search the void behind my closed lids for a memory. The darkness seems to stretch forever, like a black, infinite tunnel. The booming sound comes easily, intensifying until it’s hitting me from all sides. A cold shiver skitters through me.
