Unremembered by Jessica Brody

well. Because before I even open my mouth, I know my answer will be another lie. ‘I promise.’
    ‘Good.’ She smiles. The first one I’ve seen since we arrived home. ‘So, did it work?’
    ‘Did what work?’ I ask.
    ‘Going to the airport. Did it trigger any memories?’
    In a flash I see everything: Brittany, the gate agent. The ocean. My locket. The engraving. The boy.
    ‘Try to remember what really happened. Try to remember
me
.’
    ‘No,’ I say.
    She puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes. ‘Don’t worry. It will all come back to you eventually.’
    I nod, as though I agree, and barely muster a smile.
    ‘And first thing tomorrow,’ she says brightly, ‘I’m taking you somewhere that’s guaranteed to get your mind off things for a while.’
    I glance over at her, genuinely curious. ‘Where?’
    She flashes me a wide grin and a wink. ‘The mall.’

17
EXPOSED
    The mall is a crazy place. Massive and full of people and activity.
    Heather does most of the shopping. As we walk through something called a department store, she plucks items from the racks and expresses her enthusiasm with phrases like, ‘Oh, this is
adorable!’ and ‘You would look so cute in this!’ and ‘If I had your tiny figure, I would wear this!’
    A friendly lady named Irina shows us into a small room in the back where I’m supposed to put on the clothes to see if they fit right.
    ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Heather asks. ‘Or I can wait out here and you can come out and show me the stuff you like.’
    I shrug. I don’t really have a preference. ‘Whatever you prefer.’
    She opts for entering the dressing room with me. ‘Just in case you need help putting anything on,’ she explains. ‘Some of those zippers can be hard to reach.’
    Heather sits on a bench and watches as one by one I try on all the clothes she selected for me. Since I don’t seem to have an opinion about anything she makes the final decisions on what
is working and what is not.
    ‘Isn’t this fun?’ she asks as I slide a purple dress over my head. Heather pulls it down around my knees.
    I nod to appease her. ‘Yes. It’s fun.’ Even though I actually find the process quite tedious.
    ‘Oh,’ she breathes, her eyes lighting up as she admires the dress. ‘That is just stunning on you!’ She stands up and motions eagerly towards the door. ‘Let’s
take a look in the big mirror.’
    She leads me out into the hallway and towards a platform with three mirrors forming a semicircle around it. ‘Go ahead, step up there so you can see it from the back.’
    I do as I’m told, turning from side to side to view the dress from every angle. I admit, it is a nice dress. The fabric is lightweight and soft. The colour matches my eyes. And it seems to
fit me well. But beyond that, I’m not really sure what Heather is getting so excited about.
    I hear a trample of footsteps behind us and four girls prance into the dressing room, giggling.
    ‘OMG, Lacey!’ one of them exclaims. ‘That skirt is going to look so good on you. Trevor is going to fall madly in love with you the moment you walk into that party
tonight.’
    I look at the girl holding the hanger with the skirt on it – Lacey, I presume – and our eyes meet for a brief second. She offers me a tight-lipped smile before slipping into one of
the dressing rooms with her friends and closing the door.
    ‘You totally have to get it,’ another girl chimes in. ‘It’ll go perfectly with that white belt you bought last week.’
    I continue to listen in on their conversation as Heather leads me back into our stall and helps me out of the dress.
    ‘They sound about your age,’ she remarks as she hands me another one to try. ‘Do you want to go talk to them? Maybe ask them for an opinion on what we picked out?’
    I slip my arms through the sleeves and shake my head. I can’t think of one thing to say to those girls. It’s not as though we have anything in common. I’m an