Chapter 2
I couldn't feel my hands.
The entire ballroom had gone silent.
Even the music had stopped.
Silas Montgomery stood between the head table and the dance floor, staring at my father as though he had just uncovered something terrible.
“Dead?” I whispered.
My father looked at Patricia.
Patricia looked at Felicity.
Nobody looked at me.
Silas took another step forward.
“Twelve years ago, my daughter nearly drowned in a flooded vehicle. A teenage girl saved her life and disappeared before I could thank her.”
The young woman in the gold dress moved toward me.
Tears covered her cheeks.
“I remember you,” she whispered.
I stood slowly.
My chair bumped against the table behind me.
The woman stopped inches away.
“Count backward from ten,” she said.
My throat closed.
Those words.
That voice.
I was seventeen again.
Standing in freezing rain.
Kneeling beside an overturned car.
Trying to keep a little girl awake while muddy water climbed toward her face.
“Ten,” I whispered.
“Nine,” she answered.
“Eight.”
“Seven.”
She broke into sobs.
“You told me to keep counting until help came.”
I covered my mouth.
“Naomi?”
She nodded.
Then she threw her arms around me.
I caught her instinctively.
For a moment, neither of us could speak.
I remembered her as a frightened thirteen-year-old with wet braids and trembling hands.
Now she was twenty-five.
Alive.
Healthy.
Standing in a beautiful dress at her brother's wedding.
I had wondered about her for twelve years.
Sometimes, after particularly difficult shifts, I thought about that storm.
I wondered whether she had recovered.
Whether she had nightmares.
Whether she remembered anything.
I never imagined I would see her again.
“You saved me,” Naomi cried against my shoulder.
I held her tighter.
“I was so scared you wouldn't make it.”
Her arms tightened.
“I thought you were an angel.”
Around us, guests began whispering.
I heard someone say my name.
Another person mentioned the accident.
Then Felicity's voice cut through the room.
“This is ridiculous.”
Naomi stepped back.
Felicity was standing beside Adrian, clutching the microphone.
“Dad, tell them.”
My father remained seated.
His face looked gray.
Patricia stood sharply.
“There must be some mistake,” she announced.
Silas turned toward her.
“I don't believe there is.”
“You're confusing Jenna with someone else.”
Naomi wiped her cheeks.
“No, I'm not.”
Patricia forced a smile.
“After twelve years, memories can be unreliable.”
Naomi's expression hardened.
“I remember her voice. I remember her scar. And I remember the little silver bracelet she tied around my wrist so the paramedics would know someone had been with me.”
My breath caught.
The bracelet.
My mother's bracelet.
I had forgotten about it until that moment.
It had been a simple silver chain with a tiny blue stone.
My mother gave it to me shortly before she died.
I wore it every day.
But during the rescue, Naomi had been so frightened that she refused to let go of my hand.
I removed the bracelet and fastened it around her wrist.
I told her she could keep it until she felt safe.
“Do you still have it?” I asked.
Naomi nodded.
She reached into her small evening bag.
Then she opened her palm.
There it was.
A tarnished silver bracelet.
The blue stone had a tiny scratch across its surface.
I began crying.
“My mother gave me that.”
Naomi held it toward me.
“I've kept it every day.”
She paused.
“I was hoping I'd get to give it back.”
I closed my fingers around the chain.
For twelve years, I had assumed it was gone forever.
Silas watched us.
His eyes were wet.
Then his expression changed again.
He turned toward Patricia.
“Perhaps you should explain why your family contacted my office after the accident.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
Silas looked at me.
“A few weeks after Naomi was discharged, my private investigator found a witness who remembered a teenage girl driving an older blue sedan.”
My pulse raced.
My first car had been blue.
“He traced the registration to your father's address.”
My father lowered his head.
Silas continued.
“I called your house. A woman answered. She confirmed that a seventeen-year-old girl named Jenna lived there.”
I stared at Patricia.
She wasn't smiling anymore.
“I explained why I was looking for you,” Silas said. “I asked whether I could speak with your parents.”
Patricia gripped the edge of the table.
Silas's voice became colder.
“Two days later, I received a letter.”
He looked toward my father.
“It said Jenna had died from complications related to the accident.”
My knees almost gave way.
Naomi caught my elbow.
“No,” I whispered.
Silas nodded sadly.
“I believed it.”
I turned toward my father.
“Dad?”
He still wouldn't look at me.
“Tell me he's wrong.”
My voice cracked.
“Please.”
My father finally raised his eyes.
And what I saw there frightened me more than anything Silas had said.
Guilt.
Not confusion.
Not disbelief.
Guilt.
Patricia stepped between us.
“This is hardly the place for private family matters.”
I stared at her.
“You told them I was dead?”
She looked offended.
“Lower your voice.”
Something inside me snapped.
“For once in my life, answer the question!”
Several guests gasped.
Felicity rushed toward us.
“Jenna, stop embarrassing everyone!”
I turned toward her.
“You stood in front of 120 people and made fun of me.”
“That was a joke!”
“And now I find out someone told a family I was dead?”
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Adrian stepped away from her.
“Felicity,” he said quietly. “Did you know about this?”
Her face changed.
Just for a second.
But I saw it.
Fear.
Adrian saw it too.
“Answer me.”
Felicity looked at Patricia.
Then she whispered something that made my entire body go cold.
“Mom said they'd never find out.”
Silas closed his eyes.
Naomi started crying again.
And my father buried his face in his hands.
I thought the worst part was learning that my family had erased me.
I was wrong.
Because Silas reached into his jacket and removed a folded document.
“There is something else,” he said.
He looked directly at me.
“Jenna, after my investigator received that letter, my foundation established a memorial scholarship in your name.”
I stared at him.
“What scholarship?”
May you like
His jaw tightened.
“The one your father has been collecting money from for the past eleven years.”
