ALVA
The sound of a car squealing down the road distracts me from my thoughts. I've got a lot on my mind lately but no matter how disconcerted it all seems, there's a common thread; Demi Branson.
A sigh of relief escapes my lips as the message I have been waiting for finally buzzes into my phone. My eyebrows furrow with worry after reading it.
[Confirmed. Retrograde Amnesia]
What the hell? I want to believe it's a mistake but Dr. Miranda hardly makes one. A bitter frown creases my forehead. Demi has suffered memory loss? What in the world? All this time watching her from the shadows, waiting, moving pieces on a chessboard only for this unprecedented move to get past me? How?
Before I can make sense of the situation and wrap my head around my next move, I get an unexpected call. Shit. I hope he doesn't blame me for this. With an empty sigh, I answer.
"Where are you?" He barks into the phone. "Where the hell are you?"
