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2024-10-29 19:42:56Aria
“Spill!” Mim demands the second I catch up to her downstairs. I have finished cleaning Sebastian’s room. All of his shirts are ironed and hanging in his closet. The towels are folded, and the sheets that were on his bed are folded and placed in his closet so that when I change his sheets again, probably the day after tomorrow, I can put them back on his bed. I have sent his other bedspread out to be dry cleaned and am told it should be back in a day or two so that I can have it on hand the next time I need to completely change his bed. I hope if I can keep the sheets clean, the bedspread won’t need cleaning quite as frequently.
Mim is dusting an office near the end of the hallway we were assigned to clean that day, so she has made a lot of progress on her own. I am slightly surprised, but then, if she has no one to dis
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AriaWe take another plane to my hometown, or at least, as close to it as we can get. Sebastian tells me that there are no airports in my former territory. In fact, the closest one is a few hours’ drive from where we want to go. This time, on the airplane, when he wants to hold my hand, I not only let him, I want to hold his hand, too.The flight is much longer this time, over three hours. To pass the time, I ask Sebastian questions about his childhood, and he tells me stories about when he was a little boy. I wonder how many of them I have heard before and how many of them are brand new to me. He makes me laugh, and I love to hear the sound of his voice.But I am nervous. What if this is my last chance to remember? What if I get to my hometown and I don’t recognize anything?
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Sold to the Alpha Scent of Memories
AriaAfter a few days, I am dismissed from the hospital. Dr. Wilson, charming man that he is, says that normally, he would keep a patient who has no memories a bit longer, but in my case, he was fine sending me home. He said it was best if “my kind” took care of me. Since i still think I am his kind, I don’t appreciate this. But I go because I’d rather be anywhere but in the hospital.On the plane ride to Sebastian’s home, I sit next to him but say next to nothing as I stare at the window of the private jet we are on. His parents, who seem like nice enough people, although I’m not crazy about his dad, sit in the row in front of us and also don’t talk. Sebastian tries to get me to speak a few times. I mostly shrug and use one word responses, so he gives up. I know he wants to hold my hand, so when
