The Forgetting (26 page)

I looked at our entwined fingers. “I don't know how to play the oboe anymore.”

Nate shifted so that he faced me fully. “Oh, Georgie.” He squeezed my hand into both of his. “You'll get it back. We solved her murder. Everything should reset, right?”

I had to believe that. I didn't know what my world without the oboe looked like. “I thought it would, but I don't remember anything that I've…forgotten.”

“Maybe it's not like a dam,” Nate said. “Maybe it's like a small trickle, and you'll remember things little by little.”

I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder. “I think, maybe, memories become imprinted in our DNA. Like how Annabel's were in her heart. And if that's true, then maybe my memories will come back when they're provoked, like how Annabel's came to me.”

Nate raised my hand to his lips and kissed each knuckle. I breathed in the deep, woodsy scent of him. “Besides,” I said, “I have a whole lifetime to make new memories.”

We stared at each other for a long moment, just drinking each other in. An officer ran down the stairs to grab something from the squad car at the curb but we barely noticed him. Nate took my face in his hands. “I love you, Georgie. I swear I will spend the rest of my life making sure you know that.” His breath was sweet and warm on my skin. “Just please don't do anything stupid like eating strawberries ever again.”

I laughed and leaned in until our foreheads touched. “I am
so
sorry about that.” His lips met mine for a moment, but I pulled away a fraction of a breath. “And I swear I will spend the rest of my life helping you find Sarah.”

A choked sound escaped his throat before he dragged me to him and covered my mouth and face and neck with kisses. For a moment, the world fell away; the cops jogging up and down the steps and the cars whizzing by on the streets all disappeared, and it was just us.

Finally, we broke apart and sat in comfortable silence. Nate reached into his pocket and pulled out a brightly colored square something. He handed it to me. “I saw this in Michelle's room,” he said. “The detective said I could show it to you before they took it for evidence.” It was a coin purse, made of woven cloth in every different color. I looked up at him, my brow creased. “It's Annabel's,” he said.

I turned it around and around in my hands. No memory came to me, no flash of insight. I breathed out slowly. I had finished her work, and she had left me to live my life. The heart was well and truly mine now.

I unzipped the purse. Inside were a handful of coins, a five-dollar bill…and an ID card. I drew the card out. It was a state identification card.

People usually looked like zombies in their DMV pictures, but Anna was radiant. She was a completely different person in this picture than the one who haunted her foster-care file. She was laughing, as though someone off-camera had told a joke and snapped the picture the moment she understood the punch line. Her blond hair tumbled over her shoulders, and a rebellious streak of blue decorated a thick swath near her face.

My eyes moved over her name and address and fixed on the little red circle just beneath it. I knew that Nate had seen the red circle too, because his hand tightened on mine and his breath caught.

I gazed up into his face. We smiled at each other through our tears.

Anna Isabel Leeland was an organ donor.

Trafficked children are hiding
in plain sight.

That was the message on the billboard I passed every day while I was writing this novel. Many people think that sex trafficking is something that happens overseas, but sadly it is just as common here in the United States.

The organizations mentioned in this novel are real and making huge strides to help trafficked women get off the streets and get their lives back. FAIR Girls—which stands for Free, Aware, Inspired, Restored—has a chapter in nearly every major metropolitan area. You can get involved at any level, from becoming a sponsor to buying jewelry made by recovering girls. Visit them online at www.fairgirls.org. They also have a crisis hotline at 1-855-900-3247.

The Coalition Against Trafficking in Women is an international organization that seeks to empower women across the planet, from redefining prostitution laws to ending the demand for trafficked women and girls. Find out how you can take action at www.catwinternational.org.

If you are aware of trafficking in your area or are in crisis yourself, call the National Trafficking Hotline at 1-888-373-7888.

Because everyone deserves the chance for a better life.

Thank you for reading
!

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Although this story explores some dark places, I wrote
The Forgetting
in a state of complete joy, and that is because of the encouragement, love, and generosity of many people.

To my agent, Irene Goodman, who gently pushed me into letting go of the past and moving on to something new. For emailing me over a holiday weekend to tell me that the ending had made her cry, and for believing in this story from day one.

To my original acquiring editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, for giving this book a chance. A huge heap of thanks to my current editor, Aubrey Poole, for taking the book on with such enthusiasm and aplomb and for her good-naturedness in the face of my neuroses. To Eileen Carey and Adrienne Krogh for my phenomenal cover. To Kate Prosswimmer, Becca Sage, Rachel Gilmer, Amelia Narigon, and the entire Sourcebooks team for their dedication to this book and to me as an author.

To Becky Ousley at LifeSource for educating me about the organ donation process. To Cynthia Thaik, MD, and her wonderful staff for vetting my research and taking care of my own heart.

To Laura Baker, whose Fearless Writer and Laws of Motion classes were absolutely instrumental in the creation of this novel. It was in her classes that I grew immensely as a writer and truly learned to trust my instincts.

To Alexandra Billings, a great teacher of art and life, for inspiring the character of Tommy.

To Barb Wexler for always being there for me, both as a writer and a friend. To Linda Gerber, Ginger Calem, and Julie O'Connell for helping me climb out of the pit of despair that preceded this book. Much, much gratitude to Lizzie Andrews, Anne Van, and Will Frank for their constant encouragement and dedication to helping me tell this story. Special thanks to Jen Klein, whose astute notes were essential in getting this book finished. And deep, eternal gratitude to Romina Garber, without whose love and friendship I would be one very sad panda.

To the incredible kid-lit community in Los Angeles and to the Class of 2k14 for surrounding me with so much support.

To the wonderful people of the Republic of Pie in North Hollywood for keeping me fueled with caffeine and sugar, and for creating such a wonderful environment for writers to work in.

To my sister and brother-in-law, Tanya Maggi and David Russell, for believing in me, making me laugh, and telling me all about the hidden quirks of Boston. To my parents, Joe and Dot, for being proud of me even if I hadn't written a book.

To Chris and Emilia. You are my heartlines.

Nicole Maggi was born in the suburbs of upstate New York and began writing poems about unicorns and rainbows at a very early age. She detoured into acting, earned a BFA from Emerson College, and moved to NYC where she performed lots of off-off-off-Broadway Shakespeare. After a decade of schlepping groceries on the subway, she and her husband hightailed it to sunny Los Angeles, where they now reside surrounded by fruit trees with their young daughter and two oddball cats. She is also the author of the
Twin
Willows
Trilogy
(Medallion Press). Visit her at
www.nicolemaggi.com
.

WATCHED

C.J. Lyons

He can't run, and he can't hide.

Jesse is terrified. For four years a twisted hacker named King has hijacked his computer webcam, collecting incriminating photos and videos that he uses to blackmail Jesse. So far, Jesse's given in to King's ruthless demands in order to protect his family. But now King wants something that's too horrible to contemplate—and if he doesn't get it, he'll kill Jesse's little sister.

Jesse is trapped. King's always watching. There is no escape.

Then hope arrives in a plain manila envelope. Inside is a cell phone and a note:
I can help
.

GONE TOO FAR

Natalie D. Richards

Send me a name. Make someone pay.

Piper Woods can't wait to graduate. To leave high school—and all the annoying cliques—behind. But when she finds a mysterious notebook filled with the sins of her fellow students, Piper's suddenly drowning in their secrets.

And she's not the only one watching…

An anonymous text invites Piper to choose: the cheater, the bully, the shoplifter. The popular kids with their dirty little secrets. And with one text, Piper can make them pay.

But the truth can be dangerous…