Page 26 of Jacob Michaels is Dead

“We can’t get out of Point Worth.” Lucas frowned at me. “How are we going to get to Toledo to get help from her? And why did you think of her anyway, babe?”

“She’s an oracle.” I shrugged impishly.

“Good information to have had a while back.” Lucas’ frown deepened.

“Sorry.”

Lucas shrugged. “Doesn’t matter much now.”

“How about Mr. Barkley?” I asked quickly. “Surely your grandfather knows something about—”

“Really?” Lucas snorted. “You think grandpa can protect us from anything? Can he fix our memories, babe?”

“Well, no…”

“Exactly. We have to see Esther Jean, Rob.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Lucas groaned. “I know you don’t trust her, but it’s not like we have any real friends left, Rob. We have to trust someone, even if it’s a little foolish. Someone has to help us, and she’s the only one I know with magic and maybe some information.”

“I wish the book had been some kind of help.”

“A storybook isn’t going to help us, Rob.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“Look,” I turned to look at Lucas, “Esther Jean Wagner—if that’s even her real name—is a goddamn liar, Lucas. Suddenly, the other night, it just really sunk in. I didn’t know her before my parents disappeared to…wherever they disappeared to, okay? Hell. She could have been the person who made them disappear for all I know. Especially with my lapse in memory here. Regardless of why my parents are gone, where they went to, if she had anything to do with it—I don’t have any memories of her before they disappeared. It also makes me question everything about whether or not she has anything to do with our memory problems because…”

“Because what?”

“If she fucked with our memories, why didn’t she just give me some fake memories about her when I was a small child?” I shrugged. “I mean, that’s a real lapse of judgment on her part, right?”

“I suppose…”

“One day, some weird shit went down at the house. I was a small child. My mom was making breakfast in the kitchen, and shit…just went down. And she was gone. I don’t know anything more than that to tell you. Then I remember my dad tucking me into bed that night. Then he was gone in the morning, and this…person…showed up and said she was my grandmother. I can remember that now. I came downstairs because someone was knocking on the door. It was that…woman…and when I asked her who she was, she said she was my grandmother. I remember that now. But I don’t have any memory of her before that moment. If she was really my grandmother, I would have some sort of memory of her at Christmas or Thanksgiving…or a family reunion or talking to her on the phone during the holidays at the least. But…nothing, Lucas. She didn’t exist to me before that moment.”

“That’s crazy.”

“I’m not crazy!” I barked.

Lucas smiled gently at me.

“I meant that the situation is crazy.” He squeezed my thigh again. “Not you, babe.”

“Oh.”

“I’m on your side, remember?” He reminded me. “We’re a team.”

“Yeah.” I sighed as I laid my hand on his, letting our fingers intertwine. “Sorry. I’m kind of on edge here.”

“I don’t know why.” Lucas teased.

Darkness was creeping in on all sides of the car. The woods around us were deathly silent, making our low voices sound like we were giving commencement speeches in a huge auditorium. At least, that’s what it felt like. When a person is scared that they might be drawing attention to themselves, every little noise they make sounds amplified.

“Everything she has told me is a lie.” I reiterated. “Well, maybe not every little thing. No one can lie about absolutely everything. But the important stuff was all lies. She knows what happened to my parents. She knows I’m not her grandson. She did something to our memories—just like you said—I believe that to be true. And she has something to do with all of this shit going on around us. We can’t trust her.”