Leah's eyes throbbed with pain, the fingertips holding her phone faintly whitening. She couldn't remember much more, only a few lines, a single fragment.
Just confirming Eamon Turner's identity was enough to tear open the blank years of her past, like ripping a gash, revealing a hideous face beneath.
"How much of the past did Miss remember?" After his grief, Cornelius Turner suddenly thought of this serious question. If Leah remembered everything, he had to inform Griffith Squire at once.
"Not much, just scattered fragments. But I started having nightmares last year. Once I woke up, I'd forget all of it. Maybe I'll slowly recall things from the past in the near future." Leah spoke in a low voice. "For now, don't tell my brother about this."
She hung up, thinking of how she would jolt awake at midnight, limbs ice-cold, heart in a panic. The past had long existed deep in her memory; now it was merely being dug out bit by bit.
