Page 57 of Veil of Silence

Christian leaned back in his chair while Bo’s tail swept once across the floor beneath him.

“Apparently I know more algebra than many kids my age.” A hint of pride appeared in his expression before he quickly hid it.

Nora stepped closer and studied the equations on the worksheet. “Where did you learn algebra?”

Christian lifted one shoulder and scratched absently behind Bo’s ear. “I don’t know. I just know how to do it for some reason.”

“Someone clearly taught him during the years he was gone,” Zack said, his voice gentle. “Factual knowledge and learned skills can remain even when the memories surrounding them are fragmented. He may remember how to solve the equations without remembering who taught him or where the lessons happened.”

Nora nodded, but her gaze returned to the completed problems. Algebra meant lessons, books, and someone making certain Christian received an education while keeping him from his family.

Did that mean that someone took good care of him? Had he been enrolled in school? Had he taught himself even?

There was so much she didn’t know.

And it seemed each answer only unveiled more questions.

Chapter

Twenty-One

Nora watched as Zack gathered several pages into a folder. “For now, you might want to consider homebound instruction while we get a better sense of where Christian is academically. We can reevaluate later, but there’s no reason to rush him into a traditional classroom—if that’s what you choose to do. If I remember correctly, you girls were homeschooled. Maybe you want to go that route again.”

Her mom set her coffee down with more force than necessary. “That’s what I’m leaning toward. He doesn’t need to walk into a building full of strangers staring at him and asking questions.”

Nora looked at Christian and tried to read his expression. “What do you think?”

Christian’s hand stopped moving against Bo’s fur. He slid one of the worksheets onto the stack without looking at anyone.

Nora saw that he’d scribbled on some of the edges.

She used to like to scribble also.

She’d liked to draw dogs. What had Christian drawn? She wished she could see.

She knew drawing could be powerful. Most of his memories from his time away still hadn’t returned—not on a conscious level, at least.

“Whatever.” Christian finally shrugged.

The familiar answers lined up in Nora’s mind: Whatever. Fine. I don’t know.

Three weeks home, and so much of Christian still remained so closed off.

Zack stood and tucked the folder beneath one arm. “I’ll finish my notes and look over them. We can talk through the options once I’ve made my recommendation.”

Nora thanked him and walked him to the front door. When she returned to the kitchen, Christian was stacking the remaining papers while Austin stood near the entrance, watching quietly.

Christian glanced at Austin. “You’re FBI, right?”

“I am.” Austin’s expression remained neutral, but his attention sharpened.

“Like your dad.” Christian said it as if he were confirming something he already knew.

“That’s right. Like my dad.” Austin’s voice gave away nothing.

“How did you know that?” Nora had introduced Austin by name but hadn’t mentioned his job.

“You told me.” Christian’s gaze held hers for a moment before dropping to the papers.