The Girl Who Remembers (Emma Griffin® FBI Mystery Book 28) by A.J. Rivers

Author:A.J. Rivers [Rivers, A.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: A.J. Rivers
Published: 2024-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

The first thing Sam and I do when we get to Poppy’s house is clean up the aftermath of the attack. It seems like something that would further traumatize me or that would be extremely difficult to face, but I actually find it cathartic. As I straighten up the kitchen and clean away the blood, I’m removing that man fully from my life and taking another step toward ending the power he has over me. I feel better when I see the wall clean and the damaged items stuffed away in bags to head to the dump on our next run. The bloody cereal was a bit much, but I got through it fairly easily, all things considered.

With that finished, I go back to the guest bedroom and gather up an armful of boxes of pictures and memorabilia. Rather than going through them in the bedroom, I carry them downstairs so I can spread them out more in the living room. Sam and I turn the TV on to fill the space with some much-needed sound and spend the next couple of hours sorting and talking. It’s fun to hear the stories of all the activities and events that happened throughout the town during the years that I wasn’t here, but there’s also an emotional tug on my heart.

I’ve been trying hard to think back on the time I did spend in Sherwood when I was younger and find any memories of Poppy from then. Some of the things Sam is describing, I should be able to remember. I spent a good part of my school year here several times, and most of my high school career was here. Yet I don’t have anything concrete about Poppy or her husband, even though she apparently was an active part of the lives of most of the town.

It isn’t just painful not to be able to bring up any thoughts of this woman who has become such a prominent part of my life in the last year; it’s a reminder of everything else in my life that I’ve lost. So much of my younger years is a blur. I don’t even remember what I was doing or where I was for a lot of it. Up until just a few years ago, I wasn’t even sure of where or how my mother died when I was eleven years old. I learned so much about her and my father as I unraveled that mystery, but I also learned about myself and what my life was really like. They are things I am both glad to know and that I wish I didn’t have to.

Now I think about everything that passed me by here in Sherwood. Everything that Sam experienced in the times when I was away from him. I don’t want to let myself venture down that path, like wondering if he missed me or if he thought of me. That’s not for me to know. When I was young, I didn’t get

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