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caught of me doing something or laughing at something. The rest are either selfies or had been taken by a third person.

There’s me, sitting at a table at Louise’s, a fry in my hand, head turned toward the window. Us, standing by my front door, a bowl of Halloween candy on the ground behind us. Selfies of us in front of restaurants, at parks, inside each other’s houses. Him and I sitting at the Thanksgiving table with my family and a woman that looks just like Maverick. Us standing under a bunch of mistletoe in ugly Christmas sweaters. The photos are in chronological order, and I watch as the seasons change, the leaves bare, and then budding. Our jackets thick, and then gone. Maverick’s mansion appears in some of them: me sprawled out across a chair by the pool in sunglasses and a bathing suit, Grace in the chair next to me. The picture I’d seen on the fireplace mantle appears, Maverick kissing my cheek in front of a line of trees. The photos flip by, hitting me with a new wave of feeling at each one.

It’s like taking a trip down memory lane, except I have amnesia, so I’m seeing all of the memories for the first time.

The last photo is of just me, staring directly into the camera, smiling. My hair looks windblown, tangled and frizzed out all around my face. My skin is slightly flushed like it’s hot outside or I’ve just run a mile, and there’s a blur of greenery behind me. Normally, looking like that, I’d never want someone to take a photo of me. But instead of shying away from the camera, I look confident to be the focus of the photo. I look happy. I barely recognize myself.

“That’s the last one I got,” Maverick says from beside me. I turn to him, trying to keep my watery eyes from spilling over.

“Thank you,” I say. “Thank you for showing me these.”

He nods, taking a deep, shaky breath. “I just want you to know that I care about you. I never stopped caring about you.”

Even though I only remember knowing him a short while, I know he’s telling the truth. “I don’t remember how I felt about you,” I tell him, “but I want to figure it out. I just need time to get to know you better.”

He nods. “As I said before, anything you want to know, just ask. I won’t keep any secrets from you ever again. And if you decide you don’t want anything to do with me, I’ll respect that.”

My mouth forms into a small smile. “Thank you, but right now I don’t think that’s going to be the case.”

He smiles back, then he leans close.

His kiss fills all of the cold, empty parts of me with warmth until I’m bursting at the seams.

Chapter 31

With a start, I pull away. “What time is it?” I ask. I pull out my phone. Twelve thirty. “Shoot, I was supposed to be home already.”

Maverick stands up. “Let’s go.”

We get in the car, and Maverick has to drive me to the school to get my car that we’d left in the parking lot all those hours ago. It feels more like days, after everything that’s happened.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Now that we have more information, we can start figuring out how we’re going to take her down,” Maverick tells me as we pull up next to my car.

“Sounds good,” I say, tugging on the door handle. I look back at him, feeling like there’s more that I should say, or do. But I end up just closing the door without another word.

I drive home in the quiet, thinking about everything that happened. The gunshots that hadn’t hit me directly, but had felt like they’d punched me in the gut. Maverick’s kiss, which had only brought tingles and butterflies. The photos, the memories that Maverick had shared with me. It had been a long day.

When I pull up to my house a little after one, the lights are still on inside. I look at my phone to see what messages they’ve sent, wondering where I am. There aren’t any. I wonder if they are still awake. Certainly, they would have tried to call already if they were. Right?

I carry my backpack up the porch steps, holding my key out to unlock the door, but it’s already unlocked. Strange. Mom never leaves the door unlocked past dinnertime, even when I’m still out and about.

When I get inside, I drop my backpack on the floor, then sweep the house, looking in every room, thinking maybe my parents had fallen asleep on the couch or something. But no one is downstairs.

My heart starts to race. I run up the stairs, pushing the door to my parents’ room open. They’re not in bed.

“Mom?” I call out. “Dad?” I go into their bathroom, their closet. I check my own room and the guest room. There’s no one here. Pulling out my phone, I dial Mom’s number.

After two rings, I hear the chimes of her phone ringing from somewhere inside the house. I follow the sound, racing downstairs into the kitchen. On the counter, her phone is ringing, right next to Dad’s phone. Under both of them is a piece of paper.

A note, written in loopy cursive handwriting.

Laura,

Thanks for stopping by my office. Your parents are safe with me, but if you ever want to see them again, you’ll need to come by my lab within the next eight hours. Both of you.

                                                        Yours truly,

                                                                      Alice

The note flutters to the ground after I’ve read it. I cover my mouth in my hands, slumping to the floor next to it. My parents. Alice has kidnapped my parents.

Through blurry eyes, I pull

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