Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(4)



A deep sigh from one of them.

“And if she doesn’t?” Addison asks. “Then we just lie to her? We have to keep everything from her?”

Mom sniffs, and I imagine she’s crying. “It’s horrible, but there’s no other way. The prosecutor was adamant we have to do it this way or there will be no chance at a case. Right now, they have nothing.”

Case for what? What is going on?

“What did Holden say about her waking up?”

“He pulled her off the sedation medication a few hours ago, so now it’s up to her body to decide when she’s ready,” Mom replies. “I’m hoping it’ll be soon.”

“Me too. I have to get home to Elodie. Jenna has been there all day, and I promised her I’d be home before dinner.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Can you wait a few more minutes?”

Who is Elodie?

I push against the bonds trapping me in this state of in-between, wanting to ask them what they’re discussing.

“Maybe another ten,” Addison says with a heavy sigh. “I also have to meet with the funeral home.”

Funeral? Who died?

I push harder, demanding my eyelids do what I tell them to do because I have to wake up. There is no concept of time as I work at it, but finally, I get my body to cooperate enough that my fingers twitch.

“Brie?” my mother calls my name.

Someone, probably my mom, is clutching my hands, and I squeeze, hoping she understands that I’m trying.

More time passes before I get my eyes to open and find my mom watching me with tears in her eyes. Addison is still here, and she gives me a soft smile.

“Hey,” Addy says.

“W-where is Isaac?” I get the words out, unsure of how long I can keep myself awake.

Her lip trembles and then a tear falls down her cheek. Addison shakes her head. “Do you not remember?”

I shake my head, keeping my eyes open by sheer will. “I want to. But I can’t. I need to . . . see him. Please . . . just tell me.”

Even before she says anything, I feel the loss of my brother. Something is keeping him from me and nothing would if I needed him.

“He’s gone.” Her voice cracks around the words. “He died, and . . . I—” A sob breaks from her. “I didn’t want to tell you.”

No. That’s not possible. My brother is the strongest man I know. He can survive anything. I shake my head, refusing to believe it.

“No. He’s not! Stop. Just go get him.”

My mother’s hand rests on my cheek, and I turn to her. “It’s true, baby. Your brother was with you, and he was killed.”

“No!” I yell and try to pull my other hand free of her hold. No, this can’t be. Not him. Not Isaac. He’s . . . he’s my best friend.

They’re lying. They have to be because there’s no way my brother died. “Please,” I beg.

“I’m so sorry,” Addison cries, her head falling to the bed. “I know you love him, and he loved you so much, Brielle.”

My heart aches so much that I wish I hadn’t woken up at all. I wish I could stay in the nothingness where I felt free and peaceful and there wasn’t this crushing sadness pressing on my chest so hard it felt as if my ribs were about to splinter.

“I know this is a lot for you to process,” Mom says quickly. “We almost lost you too, Brielle, and . . .” Her brown eyes turn to Addison.

Addy clears her throat. “You have been unconscious since it happened.”

“How long have I been like this?” I ask quickly. I’m so confused.

Addy brushes a tear off my cheek before whispering, “It’s been almost four days.”

“Tell me what happened. Please. I can’t . . .”

“Shh,” my mother coos. “Easy, Brielle. I wish we could tell you what happened, but we can’t. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why can’t you tell me? Just tell me!” I shout, choosing to be angry because it’s better than folding into the grief.

Addison flinches before she steels herself and explains, “The doctors and the lawyers think it’s better if we allow your memory to return on its own. And, honestly, we don’t even know what happened.” She looks away.

Mom steps in. “They only told us that you were with him. They want your memory to come back on its own because you’re the only witness. You’re the only one who knows who did this, and the police and district attorney are worried that a defense attorney could use your memory loss against your testimony.”

“You mean the memory I don’t have? The testimony I can’t even give for the person who did this that no one can find?” Emotions swell in my throat and suffocate my voice until it’s nothing but a whisper. “Just tell me what happened.”

Tears fall down my cheeks like rain as I try to accept my brother is dead, no one can tell me what is going on, and an unknown amount of time has been stolen from my memory.





Chapter Two





BRIELLE





I fell asleep for about an hour, worn out from crying and still brokenhearted. When I woke up, Holden and Mom spent two hours trying to jog my memory, all to no avail. After another round of tears, I told my mother I wanted to speak to the lawyer and find out exactly what the hell is going on.

Corinne Michaels's Books