Page 61 of Sinful Empire (Mount Trilogy 3)
“Does she have amnesia?” my mom blurts out.
“It’s possible that she could have some memory loss due to the head injury.”
I want to tell my mom I don’t have amnesia. I just can’t grasp all the pieces floating through my mind, because without the one man who should be in this room, nothing makes sense. My left hand curls into a weak fist against my chest, and I still, my gaze darting down.
My ring is gone. I lift my right hand to my throat. My necklace is gone too.
The doctor speaks to my parents, but I tune it all out as a terrifying question slams into my brain.
Did I imagine all of it? Is that why he’s not here? Is Lachlan Mount a figment of my imagination?
No. That’s not possible. He’s real. What we have is real. Isn’t it? He’s not a ghost. He’s real. Right?
I look around the room, blood rushing in my ears, drowning out everything but my own thoughts.
“What happened?” I force the question out, and everyone around me goes quiet.
“That’s what we’d really like to figure out, Keira,” the doctor says. “Don’t push yourself. Just rest. Some of your memories may come back if you let your brain rest.”
“Are you sure?” Again, another panicked question from my mom, but I want to demand answers too.
The doctor pauses. “It’s possible she may not remember everything. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“Wait and see? Someone shot my little girl!”
“David!” Mom snaps, and Dad quiets.
Then everyone fusses over me, checking my heart and my breathing, taking my blood . . . and I let my eyes drift closed again.
The next time I wake up, my mom is still there but my dad is gone. I’m less fuzzy this time but still totally confused, because the man I want to see in my room is missing.
I can’t ask about him. My mom doesn’t know Lachlan Mount exists.
But I do. He is real. I know that. Where is he, then?
“Honey, drink some more water.” Again, Mom lifts the bendy straw to my lips and I sip. “Your dad is going out of his mind.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Shhh. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask to be shot. I’m sure of that. But the police have been waiting, and they have a lot of questions that we don’t have any answers to, except . . .”
“What?” I ask, my gaze locking on hers.
“The fire at the rackhouse. They found your assistant.”
“Temperance! Is she okay?”
How the hell could I have forgotten about her?
“Hush. Don’t get worked up. She’s fine. She got clubbed over the head. The fire department found her unconscious just inside the building when they busted down the door.”
“Oh my God.” My heart slams into my chest when I think of what could have happened to her. “She’s okay, though?” Tears burn behind my eyes. This is all because of me. Temperance could have died, and it would all be my fault.
“She’s fine. Smoke inhalation. They were lucky they got to her in time. They kept her overnight for observation for her head, but released her the next morning. She just went to go to the bathroom. She’s been keeping vigil with us here ever since.”
The next morning? How much time have I missed?
“What day is it?”
