Wait for Me by Elisabeth Naughton Read Free Book Online Page B

her name?”
    “My friend?” Simone rested her elbow on the armrest of her chair. “Why do you want to know?”
    “Just curious.”
    Simone considered for a moment, then said, “Annie Harrison.”
    Kate rolled the name over in her mind. She’d never heard it before. That hope began to fade. “How did she die?”
    Simone tipped her head. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way down here to discuss my friend, Ms. Alexander.”
    Kate ran a hand over her hair, stopping to rub her scar. “Please, just humor me for a moment. How did she die?”
    “In a plane crash, just outside San Francisco. Very similar to the one that happened here not long ago.”
    A plane crash. No, that wasn’t the same. Kate’s eyes slid shut. Possibilities, scenarios ran through her mind. None made sense, none seemed feasible, but she had to ask. If she didn’t, it would eat away at her. “What’s different about her and me? I mean, you said we weren’t identical. What’s different?”
    Simone’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you so interested in my friend, Ms. Alexander?”
    Kate focused on the petite lawyer. Tried to remember the woman. Couldn’t. But there was that feeling…an odd sense of déjà vu. The same one she’d felt when she’d seen Simone Conner’s name online. “I didn’t know about your friend when I came in here. And I’m sorry for asking, but…”
    “But what?”
    Blowing out a shaky breath, Kate straightened. “I came here on the advice of a colleague. I’m having trouble tracking down some information, and he thought a lawyer might be able to apply some legal pressure that could help me find the answers I’m seeking. I found your name online. And…I don’t know…something just told me you were the one I should see.”
    When Simone only continued to stare at her speculatively, Kate shifted. “My husband died in that plane crash here a few weeks ago.”
    “Oh.” Simone’s face softened. “Oh, I’m so sorry. No wonder you—”
    “No, that’s not it. But thank you.” Kate took a deep breath. “After his death, I found some information that brought me here to San Francisco. I was in an accident several years ago and ended up in a coma.” She frowned, shook her head. “Or so I thought. When I was going through my husband’s papers, I found evidence I’d been in a nursing home here in San Francisco for over two years. Ms. Conners, I don’t ever remember being here. I don’t remember anything before waking up from that coma eighteen months ago. Nothing about my background, where I grew up, my family. My husband told me I was injured in a car accident, that I’d been in a coma for four days. Now…now I’m not sure what to believe.”
    Simone leaned forward, her brow wrinkling. “Where have you been living?”
    “In Houston. My husband was a doctor. A neurosurgeon.” She dug papers out of her bag. “He signed forms as my attending physician while I was here in San Francisco, though. He’d never have been allowed to do that if he was my husband.”
    “No, he wouldn’t.” With narrowed eyes, Simone took the forms, scanned the papers.
    “The nursing home burned down a year ago. Coincidental, if you ask me. A new one was built in its place, but they claim all the records were destroyed in the fire. I can’t get anyone there to answer my questions. I was hoping maybe you could help me talk to them. I was a patient. I have rights.”
    Simone read the forms in her hands, flipped from page to page. “Permanent memory loss,” she mumbled, scanning the evaluation. “And you don’t remember a single thing from the accident?”
    “No. Nothing.”
    “What about after the accident?”
    “I woke up in Houston. My husband was with me. I didn’t remember him, either. It was like starting over.”
    Simone continued to read the papers in front of her. “This is pretty unique. It says the portion of your brain that was damaged deals with long-term memories, specifically personal ones, and