Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(59)

S+Z=1609.

I know for certain that the S and Z stand for Seraphina and Zen. And 1609 must be a reference to the poem. Our poem.

Sonnet 116. First published in 1609.

Zen said it was my favourite. And now I know why.

Because it was about us.

But even though the pieces are slowly starting to fall into place, there are still lingering questions that I can’t answer. Like, why would Zen engrave the year the poem was written on the back of the locket? Why not 116 after the name of the poem? Or a key word from the poem? A more direct reference.

What does the year the poem was published have to do with anything?

Despite the information I’ve managed to collect, my instincts are telling me that I’m still not seeing the entire picture. That there’s still one very large piece missing. Perhaps even more than one.

And now I worry I might never find it.

I might never have more than a half-finished story and an empty locket.

I finger the clasp, preparing to open it and take a peek at its hollow core, when I hear footsteps approaching my table. I glance up to see Cody standing over me. I stuff the locket back under my shirt and launch to my feet, throwing my arms around his neck.

‘Oh thank you!’ I cry. ‘Thank you so much for coming!’

My actions clearly take him by surprise because his body gets very rigid and he pats me awkwardly on the back until I release him.

‘How did you get away from your parents?’ I ask.

He shrugs as though the solution was easy. ‘I told them I was going to Marcus’s house for the night.’ He jerks his thumb towards the entrance. ‘Where’s Trevor’s car? I didn’t see it out front.’

I cringe, that ugly guilt feeling creeping into my chest. ‘I’m so sorry, Cody. I had to leave it.’

‘Where?’

‘A gas station.’

Cody purses his lips in concentration.

‘Are you going to get in trouble?’ I ask anxiously.

He shakes his head. ‘I highly doubt it. Trevor has no idea I was the one who swiped the keys. Plus, the police will find it soon enough. It’ll probably be back in Wells Creek before he even realizes it’s gone.’ He nods in the direction of the counter. ‘Do you want something to drink?’

I return to my seat, feeling relieved. ‘Sure.’

‘What do you want?’

I shake my head. ‘Can you order something for me?’

‘Sure.’ He heads for the cash register, only to turn around a few seconds later. ‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ he says, reaching into his backpack. ‘I brought you this.’ He pulls out Scott’s familiar navy-blue-and-white baseball cap and hands it to me.

I breathe out a deep sigh of relief and take the hat, jamming it down over my head and pulling the brim low. I already feel safer. As though it’s not just a hat, but rather a set of full-body armour to shield me from the harsh world and all the camera-bearing people in it.

‘Thank you!’ I say again.

‘I thought you might need it. Your picture has been all over the news today.’

That warm and safe feeling disintegrates instantly and I feel my heart start to hammer. ‘What?’

‘Yeah,’ Cody says, pointing to a TV mounted near the ceiling in the far corner of the coffee shop. ‘Social Services has issued a press release. Everyone’s out looking for you now.’

I shake my head in disbelief as I watch the television. Just as Cody said, my face is there. Filling up half the screen. It’s the same picture they showed right after the crash. When I was stuck in the hospital. As though nothing has changed.

When in reality everything has changed.

Cody leaves to get our drinks and I continue to watch the TV. The sound has been muted but there are words scrolling across the bottom of the screen:

Jane Doe, also known as Violet, the sole survivor of the crash of Freedom Airlines flight 121, went missing from her foster-family’s home this morning. Sources believe that she might have run away but that has yet to be confirmed. Social Services reported in their official statement to the press that the sixteen-year-old girl is in danger on her own as she has still not regained her memory. California police are currently on a statewide hunt for the girl, and anyone with any information is encouraged to call the number on this screen.





My mind reels as I watch the text go by.

Social Services is the organization that placed me with the Carlsons. Are they working with Diotech? Are they part of this?

No. That’s impossible. Otherwise, they would have simply turned me over to Diotech the moment they pulled me out of the ocean. Instead of placing me with a foster-family.

The two entities must be separate.

Add in the California police and that makes three groups of people that are looking for me.

Could things possibly get any more complicated?

I instinctively pull the brim of my hat down even further over my face.

Zen returns a few minutes later with two large steaming mugs of liquid. He slides one across the table to me. I pick up the cup and sniff it. It has a sweet, spicy odour. ‘What is it?’ I ask.

‘Chai tea latte,’ Cody responds. ‘It’s my mom’s favourite. And a bunch of girls at school drink it so I guess it must be a chick thing.’

‘A chick thing?’ I repeat sceptically.