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“No, actually,” I said, “When did you all get here?”
“We just rolled in this morning,” Desmond said as he selected a croissant.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to get here until the twenty-fourth.”
“Itisthe twenty-fourth,” Celia said, clearly distressed by my distress.
“No, it’s—it’s—” It didn’t make any sense.
“Are you feeling quite well, Helen?” Iris asked. Everyone was staring at me. I gulped.
“I woke up in the middle of the night, and...” No, better not to get too deep into that. “I saw Simon. Where is he?” I asked, half-frantic with worry.
“Your mother called earlier and said she was on the road, a couple hours away,” Caleb said gently.
“What about Simon?” I insisted.
“I assume he’s with her, or she would have said otherwise,” Caleb said.
“Have I been unconscious? Was I missing? What is going on?” I gripped the edge of the doorway as if it were the only thing keeping me upright.
“Helen. It’s okay,” Caleb said, approaching me with a hand held up in a friendly, reassuring gesture. “You’ve been here. We went for a walk yesterday. On Sunday, you spilled soup on your dress—you don’t remember any of this?”
I felt dizzy. I wasn’t breathing properly, taking short, sharp breaths in through my nose. This couldn’t be happening. I couldn’t have lost a week and a half.
Caleb put a hand on my shoulder. “Perhaps you’d better lie down for a bit. Eli can give you something.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped, but I wasn’t. I felt like I was going to throw up as confused panic gnawed my nerves into a pulpy mass.
“I’ll walk you upstairs,” Desmond said, standing. I started to object, but I realized he probably wanted the chance to talk to me alone. Maybe he knew something. I slipped out from under Caleb’s hand and followed Desmond into the hall.
“I’m not crazy,” I said when we were out of earshot.
“I don’t think you are,” Desmond assured me.
“It’s really the day before Thanksgiving?” My voice cracked.
“Swear to god,” he said. He pulled out his phone to show me.
“I don’t remember any of it.” How was that possible? “I saw Simon. I swear I did. Something might have happened to him.”
“Your mom would mention if he wasn’t with her,” Desmond said.
“Caleb’s got to be lying about the last few days. I must have been unconscious or something because I definitely wasn’t walking around like normal.” Why would Caleb lie?
I strode the rest of the way to my room. I yanked open the laundry basket and spotted the gray-blue of my favorite dress. I pulled it out and stared. Soup stain. Just like Caleb had said.
“Why can’t I remember?” I asked.
“I can’t really say,” he said carefully.
“But it doesn’t completely surprise you?”
“I don’t know. It’s just... memory can play tricks on you,” he said, doubt in his voice.
He didn’t believe, or didn’t want to believe, in the things atHarrow. But he knew more than he was letting on, I was sure of it. Maybe more than he thought he knew.
“Whatdoyou remember?” he asked.
