Page 14 of Bones

Email. Email. Email.

Emailemailemailemail.

Runrunrunrun.

I rushed from the room, nearly slipping on the polished floor in my hurry to get to Ryan’s office. It took everything in me to stop and knock first.

“Come in,” he called, and I practically threw the door open. His flash of irritation was quickly replaced with pure disgust as his lip curled. “Youreyes.”

In the beginning, he used to tell me how much he loved the unusualness of my heterochromia. He’d made me feel like it was something desirable. That it made me special. When we’d left Arkansas, he’d gotten me brown contacts to wear around other people so my distinct eyes didn’t draw too much attention.

Somewhere along the way, all of that had changed. The contacts became for daily use, no matter what. Like my eyes were something to be ashamed of.

Repulsed by.

“But—” I started as I closed my lids so he wouldn’t have to see them, but that wasn’t enough.

“Aurora.”

At the warning in his tone, a surprising amount of frustration filled my chest and threatened to rumble out, but I swallowed it down.

Choked on it.

His ire wouldn’t have been enough to stop me, but my reaction to it was. I never got upset like that.

I must really be exhausted.

Internally shaking my head at myself, I turned and ran back to the bathroom, nearly stabbing my eyeballs out as I rushed to put in my contacts with shaking hands.

When I returned, Ryan didn’t acknowledge me. And for the first time ever, I didn’t care. I couldn’t even force myself to. I was aware that I was being disrespectful and disobedient, but it didn’t matter.

I had more important things to focus on.

Moving next to the desk, I grabbed the small laptop from the shelf. Electronic devices were a distraction from the gifts of everyday life, so I didn’t have a cell, tablet, or anything else. It was all I had access to—and that was only when Ryan unlocked it for me. I used it to keep his schedule, review his emails, and a million other menial tasks that were below him. Basically,everything that kept his life organized. I set it on the very edge of his desk and excitedly opened it, my fingers still trembling as I turned it for him to unlock.

Curiosity must’ve overridden his desire to freeze me out and punish me for not wearing my contacts because he rolled his chair closer and pressed his finger to the scanner. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, hoping my brain wasn’t messing with me. If all that waited were spam emails offering a discount on male enhancement pills, advertising the availability of hot singles in the area, or promising a large inheritance from a deceased mystery relative—a scam I’d once almost fell for out of desperation to learn about any family I had—Ryan would be annoyed.

More than that, it would be proof that my curse was getting worse. That it wasn’t going away as I’d hope but was instead finding new ways to torture me for whatever sin I couldn’t remember committing.

Whatever horrendous act I’d done to cost me my memories and earn me the hellish punishment.

My heart slammed in my chest, and my thoughts raced with possibilities of what had my brain so worked up—with a constant refrain ofemailandrunalternating in the background, of course.

I knew better than to have even the tiniest sliver of hope that the email held some clue to my past. I’d long ago given up on that. As Ryan often said, my focus needed to be on my future, not my past.

The fate of my soul depended on it.

I scrolled the packed inbox, scanning subject lines as I went, but it was just Faith Connections communications. And all of it was the usual stuff, nothing attention-grabbing.

Come on.

Come on.

Donotdo this to me, curse.

Embarrassment heated my cheeks as fear and disappointment swirled in my chest. Thankfully, I hadn’t said anything to Ryan that I would need to walk back, but that still might not matter. Not when I hadn’t given him anything for his upcoming sermon.

---