Page 9 of Storm Warning

Well, in the two years since the incident, her brain had recovered from the injury, and now it appeared her mind was still trying to protect her from any psychological harm—something to do with memory subpaths created during a terrifying experience. Not all scientists, therapists, and doctors agreed, she’d been told. Okay. Whatever. She didn’t understand all the science behind it, and she didn’t have to. That’s what Dr. Holcomb was for.

Dr. Holcomb had given her two possible outcomes. She could rest and relax and over time those memories would return. But if they didn’t, Remi could intentionally expose herself to an extreme situation that would somehow cause her brain to access those same neurotransmitters used in the inciting incident, a happening she didn’t even remember.

Thinking about it hurt her brain.

I just want to scream.

Six months ago, Remi had given up on retrieving what she’d lost. Trying to find the missing few days had left her feeling alone and defeated. Until she knew the truth, it wasn’t like she could move on enough to ever fall in love, get married, and have 2.3 children—no, make that 4.5 children. If she was dreaming, she might as well dream big. Otherwise, those days that remained in the dark for her would hold danger and grief for those she might bring into her world and love. She couldn’t take the risk. Couldn’t have a simple life or her secret dream until she was whole again.

Emotion thickened in her throat. Regardless, she’d made a life here by throwing herself into managing the lodge. Taking photographs of the tumultuous Pacific had soothed her soul and helped her forget she’d lost a small part of her life.

I mean, who remembers everything anyway?

Maybe no one. But when the past threatened the present or the future, it mattered. Pressing her face into her palms, she rubbed her eyes. Now more than ever she needed to focus her attempts on recalling what she’d lost.

She was pretty sure someone had made an attempt on her life today, and even without that attempt, the flashback of a lost memory was motivation enough.

I should call Dr. Holcomb.

No, wait, I need to call the county sheriff first to report the incident.Remi used the landline and spoke with someone who took down the information and said a deputy would get back to her either in person or by phone.

That call out of the way, she turned her attention to calling Dr. Holcomb.

Would Dr. Holcomb even take her calls? After meeting with her once a month, Remi hadn’t made any progress and stopped seeing the doctor six months ago. Dr. Holcomb had been the reason Remi was at Cedar Trails Lodge to begin with. The psychologist had reservations but suggested Remi could take her place, since, after a death in the family, she wouldn’t be able to keep her two-week reservation at the cabin.

So, Remi had stayed here and taken the photographs and...

Fallen in love with the ferocity of the ocean, the rugged, rocky coastline and majestic sea stacks. After the two weeks were up, Remi didn’t want to go.

Lucky for her there had been an opening, so the lodge owner had put her to work as a barista. With her bed-and-breakfast background, Remi made herself useful, and within six months she’d become the manager. Of course, there was much more to it. Turned out the lodge owner, Evelyn Monroe, was someone who focused on helping certain individuals who needed to stay hidden. Remi suspectedshe wasn’t the only one working here who had wanted to be invisible to the outside world.

Considering she had a good life here, maybe remembering something her brain had fought so hard to protect her from wasn’t a good idea. Dr. Holcomb had told her that she would remember when she was ready. What did it matter if she wasn’t ready to face the past? It was becoming all too clear that shemustremember.

Last week, she’d received an anonymous package containing a puzzle piece along with a cryptic note. The package had no return address, but the postmark was from Nevada.

And the cryptic note?

REMEMBER.

Had the puzzle piece—a partial image of treetops and a stone building behind them—been meant to jar her memory? Well, it hadn’t. But for some reason Hawk’s hand reaching for hers the moment she would have fallen to her death had been the catalyst for the brief flashback and all the emotions that came with it.

A gust of wind shook the walls and pulled her focus back to Cedar Trails Lodge. She shrugged off the unknown past that haunted her. She could deal with it later. Her staff needed her.

She called Jo on the radio again. Remi had seen her early this morning. She’d give Jo time to finish whatever task she’d gotten knee-deep in, but she might need to go check on that door and fix it herself. She shuffled through the mail someone had laid on her desk and picked up the landline to try Jo at home. She got no answer, not even an answering machine on which to leave a message.

Remi needed a few supplies, and if Jo hadn’t picked those up earlier, she could be doing that right now, but Remi couldn’t know if the woman didn’t respond.

The last item of mail on her desk—a familiar small box. Oh no.

Remi froze. Her breath caught.

What ... is...?

No return address. No postmark this time. Did that mean someone had hand delivered it personally? She dropped into her chair and opened the box to find another puzzle piece of an image. More trees. More of the stone building. The cathedral in Zarovia? That would make sense. She’d been at the café across the street—the last thing she remembered before she’d woken up in the hospital.

She lifted the card in the box to read the words. The same message as before, with added words.

REMEMBERBEFOREIT’STOOLATE.

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