Page 3 of All Your Tomorrows

I searched his name on my phone. “This article says you were in a car accident.” I glanced up, looking for any sign of recollection. His eyes narrowed, but he seemed to be unable to recall. “Why can’t I remember?”

“Maybe you blocked it out,” I offered before glancing back down at the article and reading a little more. “You were in the car with your girlfriend.”

“I had a girlfriend?”

“I guess so. Her name is Melanie.”

He shook his head, unable to recall the information I was telling him. “Why can’t I remember that?”

I shrugged. “It says she walked away with minor injuries, but you—”

“I what?”

“You were in a coma.”

“A coma?” he asked.

I stopped reading and looked him in the eyes. I could see pain there. I could see the frustration that came with not remembering.

“Why haven’t I gone…” he glanced up.

“Some spirits linger. Some appear when they choose to.”

“Why linger?”

“Unfinished business usually.”

I glanced back down at the article. “It says your accident was over Christmas break last year.”

“I always came home for the holiday. Did it say I was driving?”

I nodded, uncomfortable at having to share that information.

“Did we hit another car? Were other people hurt?”

I continued reading more of the article. “You drove off the road—off a bridge,” I corrected.

“What?”

“It said the road must’ve been slippery. You were stuck underwater in the car, but you helped your girlfriend get free.”

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured.

“You saved her,” I said, meeting his eyes and hoping to relieve some of the guilt I was seeing there. “You should feel happy about that.” I looked back to the article, but the alarm on my phone went off, beeping loudly and signifying closing time. I jumped up and moved to the front door, peering out onto the street. A few cars were parked on either side. But the bookstore, candy shop, and boutique had all closed at eight, so no one walked around the normally busy shopping street.

“Do you want me to leave?” Kyler asked.

I glanced over my shoulder as I locked the front door. “No. I just don’t plan on making coffee for any drunk college kids.” I flipped off the main lights, but the soft glow from the under-the-counter lights and the Christmas tree in the front window kept the shop dimly lit. “Some of them make their way over here.”

“Aren’t you in college?” he asked.

“I’m a senior at Lancaster. I finished my exams early so I’m already on break. Most are still here until Wednesday.” I moved back to the table and sat down. “Did you go to Lancaster U?”

He shook his head. “Florida.”

A long silence passed. I’d just dropped a lot on him so I wasn’t about to usher him out or press him for more information he didn’t seem to remember.

“I can’t visit my family,” he finally said. “I’ve tried to get close to our house, but I just can’t seem to get there.”