Chapter-4, part-2

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“Your knuckles are white.”

I glanced down and realized I was clutching the edges of the

couch so tightly my knuckles were, indeed, white.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” I winced. Talk about a

cliché line. “No photos though.” In fact, I didn’t see any personal

effects—nothing that showed I was in an actual home and not a

model showroom.

“Why would I need photos?”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Probably not . Alex didn’t

joke, except for that one blip in his car a few days ago.

“For the memories,” I said, like I was explaining a simple

concept to a toddler. “To remember people and events?”

“I don’t need photos for that. The memories are here.” Alex

tapped the side of his forehead.

“Everyone’s memories fade. Photos don’t.” At least, not digital

ones.

“Not mine.” He set his empty glass on the coffee table, his

eyes dark. “I have a superior memory.”

My snort slipped out before I could stop it. “Someone has a

high opinion of himself.”

That earned me a shadow of a smirk. “I’m not bragging. I have

hyperthymesia, or HSAM. Highly Superior Autobiographical

Memory. Look it up.”

I

paused. That, I hadn’t expected. “You have a photographic

memory?”

“No, they’re different. People with photographic memory recall

details from a scene they’ve observed for a short time. People

with HSAM remember almost everything about their life. Every

conversation, every detail, every emotion.” Alex’s jade eyes

morphed into emeralds, dark and haunted. “Whether or not they

want to.”

“Josh never mentioned this.” Not once, not a hint, and they’d

been friends for close to a decade.

“Josh doesn’t tell you everything.”

I’d never heard of hyperthymesia. It sounded fantastical, like

something out of a science fiction movie, but I heard the truth in

Alex’s voice. What would it be like to remember everything?

My heart rate picked up.

It would be wonderful. And terrible. Because while there were

memories I wanted to keep close to my heart, as vivid as if they

were happening right before my eyes, there were others I’d rather

let fade into oblivion. I couldn’t imagine not having the safety net

of knowing horrible events would eventually recede until they were

only faint whispers from the past. Then again, my memories were

so twisted I remembered nothing before the age of nine, when the

most horrible events of my life had occurred.

“What’s it like?” I whispered.

How ironic the two of us were sitting here: me, the girl who

remembered almost nothing, and Alex, the man who remembered

everything.

Alex leaned toward me, and it was all I could do not to back

away. He was too close, too overwhelming, too much .

“It’s like watching a movie of your life play out before your

eyes,” he said quietly. “Sometimes it’s a drama. Sometimes it’s

horror.”

The air pulsed with tension. I was sweating so hard my top

stuck to my skin. “No comedy or romance?” I tried to joke, but the

question came out so breathless it sounded like a come-on.

Alex’s eyes flared. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn

honked. A bead of sweat trickled between my breasts, and I saw

his gaze dip to it briefly before a humorless smile touched his lips.

“Go home, Ava. Stay out of trouble.”

It took me a minute to gather my wits and peel myself off the

couch. Once I did, I all but fled, my heart pounding and knees

shaking. Every encounter with Alex, no matter how small, left me

on edge.

I was nervous, yes, and a bit terrified.

But I’d also never felt more alive.

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