My stomach roars to life, growling its approval.

“I see,” Walter says, jotting something else in his notebook.

Jace and Cole’s mouths drop open.

“You want a burger?” Cole exclaims. “Like a real one?”

Well, I certainly don’t want a fake one.

“Are you sure?” Jace questions.

“Positive.” A pang of guilt hits me. “I know you guys want me to eat super healthy and stuff but—”

Cole starts laughing. “No, we don’t.”

Color me confused. “You don’t?”

Jace shakes his head. “Bianca, you’re a vegetarian and a devout health food nut.” Jace’s lips twitch. “I can’t even recall the last time you ate a potato chip.”

This is news to me. “Really?”

“Yeah…or at least you were.” He looks at Walter. “Is this normal?”

He nods. “It’s not uncommon for those with head injuries to have personality and other changes.”

Jace and Cole exchange a glance.

“Makes sense,” Cole mutters.

Jace nods in agreement. “Definitely.”

I hate feeling like I’m the butt of an inside joke that I have absolutely no recollection of. “Care to share with the class?”

Shrugging, Jace shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “It’s nothing bad. You’ve just been a little…you know…different.”

“The word you’re looking for is nice,” Cole mutters.

Hold the phone.

I’ve attacked my poor doctor and nurse, not to mention them last week and they think that was nice?

Cole starts to speak again, but Jace clamps a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s put this conversation on the backburner for a minute so we can go grab her that burger.”

Cole grins. “We should go get her one from Fatty’s.”

I have no idea what Fatty’s is, but I’ll eat just about anything as long as it’s not healthy.

“It’s the best burger you’ll ever have,” Cole declares as they head for the door. “Are you sure you want pickles though? You used to have a phobia of them.”

“A phobia of pickles?”

Jace laughs. “Yeah. When you were five, you got it in your head that pickles were really dead frogs in a jar, and you were terrified to eat them.”

I have no recollection of that at all. “That’s so…weird.”

Not to mention, it makes no sense.

“Tell me about it,” Cole says. “But it was funny as fuck watching you scream at people to stop eating the frogs whenever Mom and Dad took us to a restaurant.”

I bet.

Walter stands up. “I have another appointment, but what do you say I stop by in a few days so we can talk some more?”

“Sure.” I gesture to my bed. “I’ll be here.”

Wondering who the girl I used to be was and what happened to her.

Chapter 6

“Is there anything I can get you?” Sawyer asks. “Anything I can do?”

Aside from bringing my mom back from the dead and locating Liam…nope.

I stare up at the ceiling. “No.”

“How about you let me do your makeup?” she suggests. “Or paint your nails again?”

With the way she keeps bringing up makeup and nails, I’m starting to think I must have been very into that stuff.

“No thanks.” Turning my head, I look at her. “Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s Liam?”

It’s been a week since I found out he’s alive but there’s still no sign of my brother.

The world feels cold and lonely without him.

Like someone shut off the sun.

She frowns. “I—”

Whatever she was going to say fades away when Cole walks into the room.

“Hey.” He gestures to the paper bag with grease stains he’s holding. “I brought you a burger and fries.” He grins. “No pickles.”

“No thanks.”

I close my eyes, silently wishing everyone would leave me alone.

“What’s wrong?”

“She misses Liam,” Sawyer tells him.

More than miss.

I feel like I lost a vital part of myself.

“I’m really tired,” I grind out, hoping they take the hint.

“We’ll let you get some sleep.” Sawyer squeezes my hand. “If you need anything, let us know.”

I need Liam.

Past…

“Do you t-t-think Mom w-w-went t-t-to Heaven?” Liam whispers into the darkness.

I glare at my brother’s shadowy face. “Of course she went to Heaven. Why would you think otherwise?”

It’s been almost six months since our mom died and the pain isn’t any better.

Sometimes it hurts so bad I force Liam to sleep in my bedroom.

Chase the nightmares away.

“Drew Harrison,” Liam tells me matter-of-factly. “He s-s-said if s-s-someone c-c-commits s-s-suicide they go to Hell.”

“Drew Harrison is an idiot.” I drop my voice to a whisper so only he can hear me. “Besides, Mom didn’t commit suicide.”

Liam’s brows furrow. “Yes, s-s-she—”

“No, she didn’t,” I argue, flicking on the small lamp on my nightstand. “She didn’t want to die that day. She just wanted the pain to end. Big difference.”

There had to be.

Turning on my mattress, he stares up at my bedroom ceiling. “Yeah, I guess you’re r-r-right.” He blows out a heavy breath. “Bianca?”

“Yeah?”

“Who do you think Mark is?”

My heart clenches. “I have no idea.”

And I’m not so sure I want to.

“She s-s-said she loved him,” Liam whispers.

“So.”

Mom was a good person. She loved lots of people.

He gives me a pointed look. “W-w-what about Dad?”

“What about Dad?”

I have no idea what he’s hinting at.

His forehead creases. “W-w-what if Dad w-w-wasn’t the only m-m-man M-m-mom loved?”

Rage grows so thick in my throat it practically chokes me.

Before I can stop myself, I launch my fist into his arm. “Daddy is her husband, dummy.”

“Ouch,” Liam cries out. “T-t-that hurts.”

I punch him again. Harder this time. “Take it back.”

“No.” Scowling, he gets off the bed. “I w-w-want to t-t-tell Dad the t-t-truth.”

A knot of dread coils in my stomach. “You promised.”

Tears cloud his eyes. “And M-m-mom always promised t-t-that s-s-she loved us.” He rams his fist into his chest. “But s-s-she left us. She t-t-tried to k-k-ki—”

I cover his mouth with my hand before he finishes that statement.

“She was sick, Liam. The kind of sick people can’t see because it was in her brain.”

I’ve been researching all sorts of things since the accident.

Trying to figure out what was wrong with her.