Page 65 of Memories of the Lost

I hate leaving you in this state. Why don’t you come with me?

I wish. I’m already behind.

Let’s have brunch tomorrow anyway. That place on 12th, Noon and Night? 11 a.m.

Yes. LOVE YOU.

I LOVE YOU MORE.

She copied the names from the settlement into a sketchbook on the table. There were seven, including her mother, and she started going through them one at a time to see if she could find links. She started with Facebook because it was the right generation, and she found three right away, all living in close proximity to the original fire. She DMed them separately.I’m looking for information about a woman who lost her daughter in the Valencia firestorm. If you remember her or the little girl, I’d love to talk to you. P.S., I’m family, not a reporter or anything.

In the meantime, she ran Google searches on the other names. Three more were deceased, which seemed like a lot until she realized they were middle-aged at the time of the fire, thirty-five years ago.

A ding alerted her to a private message on Facebook.

I remember Arlette. We were good friends, and it was horrifying what happened to her daughter. How are you related?

She clicked “Reply” and hesitated, fingers hovering. Whatever she said might spook the woman since Tillie had no background and no idea if her mother had siblings or might have talked about that. Nothing. She needed unvarnished answers, so she opted for:I’m her cousin. My mom died and left her some sentimental things. Do you know where she is?

I don’t, sorry to say. It was a pretty bad time for all of us. Most of us scattered.

K. Thanks. One more thing: Do you know if she had another daughter?

Not that I know of.

She sent a heart and a thanks emoji and peered into space. Where the hell was she when all this happened? She was starting to get a really bad feeling about it all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The donor Liam mentioned to Tillie was a woman. According to Krish, she’d donated nearly $50,000 to the foundation, most of it going toward scholarships and the travel expenses of those who couldn’t afford the very high fees of the in-person workshops. He’d never spoken to her, and it wasn’t such a terrible thing to be polite to people. It was part of the job.

She waited in the hotel restaurant, tucked away in a corner booth, and stood as he entered. Often, the donors were women in their forties and fifties, but Nikki Gonzales couldn’t be more than thirty, and she was a knockout, blonde and healthy-looking, with clear skin unadorned by makeup. She was nervous as she offered her hand. “Hi, Liam. It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” he replied, gesturing toward the booth, and sat. “I wanted to personally thank you for your generous donations.”

“My pleasure.” Her cheeks pinkened a bit. “I’ve gotten so much out of your meditations. I like imagining that others could get some benefit.” She leaned close, and he found himself slightly trapped by the circle of the booth. Her leg bumped his.

“Yeah? Tell me about that.” He moved away slightly. In other circumstances, he would have found her very appealing—she was just histype, or at least she would have been before he met Tillie, who wasn’t that fit and not at all blonde, and yet ...

“I was a mess before I started using your app,” Nikki said, and rubbed her inner forearm, as if she’d been an addict. “It made all the difference.”

“I’m glad. I share that history, as you likely know.”

She nodded. Her hair fell down her arm in a shiny swath, which he observed as a fact, nothing more. “I do know. When I got clean and started my company, you were a role model in how to proceed.”

“What’s your company?”

“Oh, I’m just ... an influencer. I’m a yogi, and a bunch of companies ... well, a lot of products ... I mean.” She scowled. “Shit. I’m never this incoherent.” She raised her eyes. “You’re just a lot more compelling close up.”

Her cheeks were pink, and her throat. She was crushing hard, which wasn’t unusual, but he reminded himself to be kind and super careful in the way he extracted himself. With a chuckle, he patted her hand, as if he were an old granddad. “That’s not important. Really.”

She pressed her hand to his leg. “I don’t want anything long term, or any of that. But what power could we unleash?”

He lifted her hand off his thigh and pressed it to her own. “Listen, Nikki, I mean this in the nicest possible way. Tell Krish to back off.”

Her face fell. “I don’t know Krish.”

“Yes, you do.” He threw bills on the table. “This isn’t the first time he’s tried this. But you’re the prettiest by far.”