Change Places with Me(35)

Of course, Rose thought, there are other businesses in the building. But there was something so isolated about this place, like it was the only business on the planet.

“It’s dark,” Rose said. “Can I turn on the lamp?”

“Please, don’t touch anything! Especially that lamp.”

It was like being a kid again on the first day of school, doing everything wrong. There was a gray chair that looked hard, but as soon as Rose sat down, she felt like it could swallow her whole. “This chair,” she said, not sure what else to say about it.

“Elephant foam. Our company had it developed specially for our offices. Once you sit, it remembers your body and adjusts to suit your movements. It can handle thousands of customers, or passengers, as the company likes to call them, and it memorizes each one—elephants never forget, of course.” She paused. “That’s right, you didn’t find that so funny last week, either.”

“Last week?”

The lady sat in a swivel chair at a glass desk empty except for a wraparound screen and a nameplate that, oddly, was facing her. “Your mother came with you last time. I’m surprised she sent you alone today.”

“She doesn’t know where I am.”

“Isn’t she aware of your situation?”

“What situation?”

“That you’re here now, of course. That you remembered.”

Rose felt like they were going in circles. “Did something happen to me in this room?”

“Let’s take a step back.” The lady swiveled. “Have you had a blow to the head?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? Don’t answer too quickly.”

Rose hesitated. “No,” she said again.

“How about an allergic reaction?”

Rose didn’t have allergies, but she gave that question a good, long pause. “No.”

“A sudden shock?” No. “Did you jump into a pool of icy water?” No. “Were you given anesthesia?” No. “Even some Novocaine at the dentist’s can trigger it.”

Rose said she hadn’t gone to the dentist, or done anything out of the ordinary.

The lady stopped swiveling. “Strange—it’s almost always caused by something external. You must’ve done it yourself, then. That shows an extraordinary amount of resistance.” She frowned at Rose, as if unconvinced that Rose had this in her.

“What have I done?” Rose asked.

“Breakthrough, it’s called.”

“Breakthrough,” Rose repeated. “Isn’t that something good?”

“Not in this instance.”

Rose pointed out the window. “I had to come here. I was having brunch. I looked up. I’d found a receipt. Of course, that was before.” She knew she wasn’t explaining it very well.

“But you rang the bell. You could’ve walked away. I suggested you do just that.”

Rose felt herself sink deeper into the chair. It immediately contorted to fit her in a sort of overfamiliar, off-putting way.

“We have many, many satisfied customers who don’t even know they’re satisfied customers,” the lady said. “Don’t believe everything you hear about the lawsuits. There are a few unsatisfied people, yes, but well over ninety-five percent of our clients never experience breakthrough or other sort of complication. Even when the proof is right in front of their eyes—looking up and seeing our sign, or finding a receipt, as you say—they’ll still deny having it done. Even when they’ve spent weeks thinking about it, they’ll simply assume they’ve changed their minds. These people aren’t lying or crazy. They’re just proving it works.”

“What works?”

The lady widened those startlingly green eyes. “Memory Enhancement. What else are we talking about?”





CHAPTER 22


“Memory Enhancement.” Rose just sat there. “Cooper—my friend—knew it. He was right. You . . . you tampered with my memories.”

“It’s a bit more complicated, Rose. . . . Okay, where do I begin?” The lady paused, as if Rose could help her out, give her a hint. Swiveling in her chair, she glanced at her watch. “Have you got your phone with you? No? Use mine. You need to call your mother so we can get this all straightened out.”

“She’s my stepmother.”

“Yes, of course; she told me your history. Evelyn referred to you as her daughter, just so you know. And you two do look alike—the blue eyes.”

The lady’s ID pic on her phone showed a yellow parakeet on her shoulder. Rose fastened onto this. “Very cute bird,” she said brightly. “At the animal hospital where I work, they don’t take parakeets. No exotics. Where do you go when she’s sick?”

“It’s a he. I have a vet who makes home visits, and—” She swiveled some more. “You weren’t so chatty last week.”

Why am I even talking about birds? Rose wondered. The chair seemed to clamp itself down on her as if she might try to escape. She tapped in Evelyn’s number.

“Hello?” Evelyn said tentatively.

“It’s me—Rose,” she said, in case Evelyn got confused by the unfamiliar ID pic.

“Where are you? Are you okay?” Evelyn’s voice shook. “You said you were going out for brunch and coming straight home. Hours went by. You didn’t have your phone. I was worried sick. Where are you?”