“You’re number thirty-seven, right? I think that’s what I read on the paper.” For some reason, he’d expected Natasha to live in a fancy Tuscan-style home, something with a three-car garage, a colonnaded porch, tall palm trees and a pool out back. Something more like the home she’d grown up in, a place that aligned more with her family’s beliefs about wealth and social status.
“Thirty-nine, actually,” she said, folding the papers back up. “I used to live in thirty-seven, but Hayley and I swapped units with our neighbors right before my launch, really lovely people. Thirty-seven is one of the slightly wider units with an extra bedroom, and since they had a baby on the way with two other children under three, we—” She froze midsentence. “How do I know that?”
“Dr. Olsen said your memory loss would be selective, remember? I’d say this is a good sign.” He cut the engine and hopped out, then jogged around to the other side to open the door for her. “It’s late afternoon, almost four o’clock. Will Hayley be home?”
Natasha squinted up at the condos, her gaze swinging between numbers thirty-seven and thirty-nine. “She...might be? If I’ve been missing, she’s probably been staying with the neighbors. She stays there when I have overnight training or a conference to attend. In exchange, and for a bit of spending money, she babysits for Rania after school sometimes, so Rania can have a bit of personal time. With the baby, of course. Hayley got her babysitting certificate as soon as she turned twelve. The course fee was her birthday present.” Her voice rose with excitement as she recalled details about her daughter.
Maybe yours, too, he told himself. “Your daughter sounds like quite the entrepreneur. Smart kid.” He swallowed hard. That lump in his throat refused to go away. “Does she look after the kids in your current place or next door at the old place?”
Natasha didn’t respond, but took the first flight of steps halfway up to unit thirty-nine before pausing. She remained still for a moment, then turned around and came back down. A small red mailbox was positioned on the outer wall next to the garage door, decorated with a gaudy gold-and-silver tinsel wreath that looked like it had come from a discount store. Natasha placed her hands on either side of the mailbox and lifted it off the wall. A strip of duct tape underneath held two house keys in place, which she removed before replacing the mailbox.
“Either place,” she said. “And Hayley has her own set of keys to get inside, but... I remembered these were here.”
“Another good sign.” He rocked back and forth on his heels as nervousness dug in further. As Natasha started to climb back up the steps, a large, silvery-gray mass of fur and muscle careened up the sidewalk, leaping toward her with massive front paws. “Look out!”
He lunged for the dog. Instead of shouting in alarm, Natasha laughed and leaned into the creature’s awkward embrace. Its paws scrabbled against her legs and torso. As they greeted each other, the dog dropped back onto all fours and took small steps backward, punctuating its movements with short, terse barks.
“You know this dog?” Chris asked. “Something’s clearly got him worked up.”
“It’s a she,” Natasha said, ruffling her fingers along the fur at the dog’s collar. She bent to read the tags. “Her name is Fin. Short for Infinity. She belongs to the neighbors.”
“Infinity? Cute.” Chris couldn’t help but smile. “She has such an unusual coloring! I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
“Silver Lab,” Natasha said, trying to beckon the dog back to her waiting hands. “I love dogs, but I’m away too often to care for one myself. Maybe when Hayley’s a little older.”
“What’s she doing on the loose?”
“She must have escaped from the backyard, or maybe Hayley let her out by accident. Not a problem. I’ll let her back in the house so Rania doesn’t come home and wonder where her dog has wandered off to.” As Natasha crossed the driveway to her old condo, the dog followed after her, barking and whining. When she reached the steps, Infinity’s whining grew stronger and her tail drooped. The dog placed her front paws on the bottom steps but refused to follow Natasha up.
Chris’s heart squeezed at the sounds coming from the agitated canine. “Hey, something’s not right here—don’t you think? She seems worried.”
Natasha reached the first landing and looked over the railing at him. Under different circumstances, he might have made a joke about the moment feeling like a scene out of Romeo and Juliet—after all, their families hadn’t liked each other, just like that ill-fated couple’s—but it would fall flat without Natasha’s memories of the two of them. Based on the way her memories of Hayley and her home were pouring back into her brain, however, it wouldn’t be long before she remembered him, too.
“She’s probably just nervous about the kids,” she said. “They can be loud, especially if Rania’s youngest has a screaming tantrum. He’s still learning not to pull on Fin’s ears and tail—oh, there I go again, remembering things. It’s so strange—like one moment, there’s nothing inside my head, and the next moment, there’s too much and I have to let it out. Sorry. You probably don’t care to know all these random facts I’m spilling. Long story short—the poor dog likely needs a quiet place to rest.”
“If you say so.” But the dog’s whimpering increased to an all-out wail as Natasha climbed the remaining steps. The instant she inserted her key in the lock, Fin tore up the stairs, reaching Natasha just as she turned the key. Fin leaped up, grabbed Natasha’s shirt in her teeth and yanked backward. Natasha stumbled back with a cry of surprise, her fingers brushing against the front door and sending it swinging inward just as a mighty pull from Fin dragged her down the first flight of stairs.
And then the front of the house exploded.
* * *
Natasha’s breath came in ragged gasps as she clung to the dog’s soft fur. Muffled sounds rang in her ears as she blinked away the dust and debris that obscured her vision.
“Tasha!” Chris barreled across the short space to reach her—how had she gotten on the ground?—and knelt by her side. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?”
For a moment, she thought she felt the dog beneath her grow still, and her insides tightened. Then the large, furry body rolled underneath her and sneezed. Thank You, Lord. “I think Fin just saved my life,” she said. Her words sounded strange, and her body felt worse than it had when she’d arrived at the hospital earlier, but that didn’t matter. There was something very, very important she was forgetting. Something critical—
It returned to her in a flash.
“Hayley!” She pushed to her feet and stumbled toward the demolished staircase, not caring how much her body hurt. She’d climb the drainpipe or knock down the garage door to get inside if she had to, because if her daughter and those little ones had been inside the house during the explosion... “Hayley, can you hear me? I’m coming!”
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind and pulled her away from the smoking remains of the front entrance above them. Chunks of the door and the landing fell, but she didn’t care. She’d find a way in. She’d break down the door at the back of the house, or—
“Tasha, no! It’s not safe.” Chris’s breath across her neck made her pause. She stopped struggling against his grip. “Does Hayley have hair like yours? Curly? Reddish brown? A girl just came outside at your place.”
Sure enough, the sound of feet pounding down the next-door steps was followed by her daughter’s strained cries. “Mom? Mom! You’re home!”
Natasha pulled free from Chris’s grasp and opened her arms to embrace her daughter. She squeezed her tightly once, then held her