The Memory Draining

I wiped my hands self-consciously on my filthy clothes, dug a single coin out of my pocket, and held it out to him.

"Thank you for taking me in, sir," I said. "This is all the money I have. Is it enough to buy this bowl of soup?"

Grayson Ellison's gentle smile froze on his lips.

He had no idea that only moments earlier, I'd completely forgotten who I was. I'd forgotten how much I used to love my family, too.

Grayson stood there holding the bowl of steaming soup. The corners of his mouth stiffened, then finally fell.

He stared at the dust-covered coin in my palm, his brow knitting together. "Sophie, what are you playing at now?"

"Playing at?" I flinched.

I looked down at the coin in my hand. My fingers, still clutching it, started to shake. "I'm sorry. If it's not enough, I can clean this basement to make up the difference."

Grayson's face darkened completely. He slammed the bowl down on the wooden crate beside him. Scalding broth splashed out and burned the back of his hand, though he didn't seem to feel it at all. He grabbed my wrist instead.

"That's enough! How long do you plan on playing this amnesia act?"

His grip was crushing, strong enough to nearly break my bones. "The forty-nine days are over. You've paid your debt. There's no need to keep playing the victim in front of us."

The pain shooting up my wrist made me struggle on instinct, and tears sprang to my eyes before I could stop them. He dragged me, stumbling, out of the basement.

"What did you do to her?"

A woman's voice rang out, gentle but edged with reproach. I forced my eyes open and saw a middle-aged woman in silk loungewear stepping out of the kitchen. She frowned and pried Grayson's hand off my arm.

Her eyes lingered on my frayed sleeves and dirty face. Something flickered across her expression. She reached toward me, then pulled her hand back before it landed.

"Sophie, honestly. It's just a memory draw, not a bone marrow donation. Why do you have to make such a mess of yourself over it?"

Diana Ellison sighed, a note of worn-out, reluctant patience in her voice. "That's enough. The ritual's over now, so let's just move on and live like normal. Go take a shower and change into something clean."

As she spoke, she glanced up toward the second floor and lowered her voice deliberately. "Your sister, Harper Ellison, is asleep upstairs. Keep it quiet when you go up. Her nerves are shot, and she only just managed to fall asleep."

I stood there awkwardly on the expensive carpet, not knowing what to do with myself. "Where should I go to wash up?" I asked carefully.

The room went quiet for a beat.

Grayson let out a cold laugh beside me. "Mom, look at her. Still putting on a show."

Diana's brow furrowed too, the sympathy in her voice replaced instantly by irritation. "You don't know where your own room is? It's the last one at the end of the hall on the second floor. Go on. And don't use the shared bathroom out here. Harper doesn't like using anything someone else has touched."

With that, she turned and ladled a bowl of chicken soup out of the pot on the stove. I stared at the bowl and gulped. She glanced back at my hollow stomach, pulled a smaller bowl from the sterilizer cabinet, and filled it for me.

"Drink this before you go wash up. I made extra on purpose. There's a share in here for you too."

Still, when she carried the larger bowl upstairs, her footsteps were quick and urgent.

Grayson stood off to the side, tugging at his tie. "Alright, Mom's already given you a way out. Don't push your luck. Drink the soup, and let's put the past behind us. Going forward, you're still a young lady of this house. Whatever Harper has, we'll do our best to get you a share of it too."

If the old Sophie had heard any of that, she probably would have burst into tears over the unfairness of it, or flipped the bowl over in a fit of anger and demanded to know why ten years of devotion counted for less than blood.

But I didn't.

I just looked calmly around the kitchen until my eyes landed on a rag. Then, under Grayson's startled stare, I walked over, picked it up, knelt down, and wiped away the dirty footprints I'd tracked in by accident.

When I finished, I stood back up and set the coin down neatly on the edge of the bowl of soup. "Sir. Ma'am. I won't be drinking the soup."

I stepped back and bowed to the tall man in front of me. "I'll collect bottles outside and sell them to pay you back for that bowl of soup you brought to the basement, if that's alright."

I looked up, my eyes free of any resentment. "Please, I'm begging you, don't lock me back in that dark room.

"I'll behave. I can do plenty of work."