Chapter 65
CHAPTER
CHARLEY
Here turned out to be France. Mont Blanc, specifically. I was found in an out-of-bounds area by a group of expert skiers who had “accidentally” veered off course into virgin powder.
Everyone kept telling me I was lucky to be alive.
Wrong, I’d think. If I were lucky, Thad would be here, not me. If I were lucky, I’d be on Nil, with a fighting chance of catching a gate and seeing Thad again. If I were lucky, I’d have been left for dead. That would have been kinder.
But instead I’d been admitted to a French hospital.
So far I’d spoken three words: American. Charley Crowder. The rest of the time I either shook my head or nodded, when I acknowledged the doctors at all. I kept my eyes closed, alternately clinging to my mental pictures or hiding from them. They were all I had.
When Mom, Dad, and Em rushed into the room, they looked as foreign as the nurses. The minute they saw me, their words gushed like tears.
My mom. “Charley! Oh my land, it’s really you! You poor baby, I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.” No, you can’t.
My dad. “Oh, shug, we’d thought we’d lost you.” Me too.
Em. “Charley, I’ve missed you so much. When we got the call they found you, it was the best day of my life.” And it was one of the worst days of mine.
They huddled around my bed, pouring out their stories.
They thought I’d been kidnapped. My clothes were found in the Target lot; my dad’s Volvo was discovered in downtown Atlanta, stripped and trashed.
My purse and wallet were never found. It was clear that my entire family had expected to find me dead—not alive on a French mountainside.
No one could figure out how I got there, but they didn’t seem to care. They were too happy that I was alive.
More babbling. More questions. More. More. More. Too much. Too soon.
I closed my eyes, shutting my family out. I couldn’t tell the truth; no one would believe me. So I did the next best thing.
I claimed amnesia.