Sweet Revenge [sample - now a published book available on Amazon!]

twenty three

As I walk through the front door of my house, I know something is up. Mom, Dad and Will are all sat at the kitchen table. Kaidan is no-where to be seen. That means one thing, and one thing only; family meeting.

"Grace, please can you join us." Dad tells me, gesturing to the seat opposite him. I want to tell him no, because he and mom have been lying to me for most of my life. But I know what this will be about. Jared.

"I'm hoping you've been brought up to speed." I tell mom and Will bluntly. "I remember Jared. Which means I know what lying assholes you are." It comes out as rudely as I meant it. Can you blame me? I have been living with Dissociative Amnesia my entire life.

"Language Grace." Mom says instinctively. "I know you're angry, but I think you need to hear your father out." I sigh.

"I have one question for you mom." I say. "Did you know that I lost my memory?"

"Yes, but Grace~"

"And you didn't take me to a doctor." I say. "That's pretty shitty parenting, don't you think?" Her face beets red and she goes quiet. I know I'm being harsh, but I can't help it.

"You are being rude, Grace." Dad speaks up. "I think if you remembered everything, you'd be glad that those memories were gone."

I narrow my eyes at him. "I'm sure that's the case. But you should have got me checked. I could have had something wrong with my brain."

"We knew that your brain was fine." Dad blurts, and then immediately looks like he regrets it. I cock my head to one side.

"What?"

He sighs, before saying, "Dissociative Amnesia is genetic."

"I don't follow." I say, darting my eyes to Will, whose eyes are firmly on the counter. He's avoiding eye contact with me.

"Dissociative Amnesia tends to run in families, Grace. And, as you know, it is caused by a stressful event." Dad continues, and I still don't follow him. Neither of my parents have it, as far as I'm aware. And then it clicks. I thought grandad had dementia, but maybe he had it too.

"But grandad had dementia." I say, the cogs slotting into place. "Right?" Both my parents shake their heads.

"He didn't. You and Will were too young to know what dementia was, let alone Dissociative Amnesia." Dad says carefully. I look at Will, whose eyes are now on me.

"I didn't know, either, Grace. They told me last year." Will says. "They told me that Jared had moved to Australia, when it happened. But it was a secret, they told me." He says.

"Why lie?" I turn my attention back to my parents.

"Murder is not something that you can explain to children aged six and eight, Grace." Dad says bluntly. "We made the decision to not tell you both, because it would have severely impacted you."

"And grandad? Why lie about him, too?" I ask. My parents look at each other tentatively, and mom nods.

"He developed Dissociative Amnesia following Jared's death, too. His, however, was more immediate. The day after, he was asking after Jared. He was living in the past." Dad explains. "I couldn't bear to tell him that Jared was dead.

"After a psychiatrist diagnosed him with Dissociative Amnesia, he engaged in therapy at his care home. Slowly, but surely, his memories returned." Dad rubs his face in distress. "But that's when your memory began to disintegrate, Grace. And we knew the symptoms. We knew you had it, too."

"So, you decided that I could never see my grandfather again?" I ask, confusion flooding through me.

"We were worried that you would be a trigger for him." Dad closes his eyes as he tells me. "His amnesia wasn't localized to one event, like yours. Anything relating to Jared would instantly affect his memories."