Sal nods. She keeps close to Luke’s side as she inspects the rest of the house. The first floor holds a kitchen, a guest bedroom, a powder room, and a sizeable living room that opens to a formal dining room. Her fingers trace flowered wallpaper, knotted walls. She presses palms against doorknobs, kitchen countertops, feeling like she’s searching for a wormhole into her past. She can tell the house used to be a fixer-upper. It’s clear hard work was put into it. When Sal gets to the living room, she taps the stone wall framing the fireplace. She looks at Luke. He’s been following her at a careful distance, waiting to help if asked.
“Did we do this?”
“We did,” he says. “We spent one summer fixin’ it up. Jace and Seth even pitched in, peelin’ off wallpaper and sandin’ floors.”
“Yeah, and you paid us in beer,” Seth adds. “Cheap bastard.”
Smiling, Sal points at a large door with an old acoustic guitar painted on it. “What’s this? Basement?”
Luke stiffens. “Recording studio.”
Sal tips up her chin, amazed. “You have a studio here?”
His throat bobs. “It ain’t been used in a while.”
Sal wants to ask him why, but something in his face stops her. There’s a sadness there, a reluctance to get into it.
Seth peers at her. He can’t help it. He’s curious. “Anything comin’ back to you?”
Sal pulls her eyes from Luke and shakes her head. “No, nothing.”
Luke shoots his brother a hard look. “That’s alright.”
Not for Sal. She knew it would be difficult, but not this difficult. Sal thought that maybe, seeing her home, it would all come rushing back like those amnesiacs from the movies. Instead, she’s left with only blackness. More frustration than knowledge.
Is this how it’ll always be? Living a blind life? Being unable to find the thing most precious to her—her memories? Hell, it’s not like she lost her wallet.
She’s lost.
Her.
“Sal?” Luke’s leaning in, looking at her with concern.
Sal blinks away the tears and forces a brave smile at Luke. Knees trembling, she moves for the stairs, steadying herself for a moment on the wood banister.
“Show me the upstairs?”
“Of course.”
Luke goes to reach for her hand, stops himself. He steps around her and extends an arm. “Why don’t you head on up, and I’ll get your bag?”
His reaction confuses her. Sal frowns, puzzled, when she’s hit with a hard thought.
As Sal watches Luke head to the front door, her heart sinks in her chest. Maybe she was right. Maybe her memory isn’t the only thing she’s lost since being gone.