Faith had only opened the boxes to confirm they were the right ones before taking them. Her mother never would have handed them over willingly and had kept them tucked away in the attic rather than the basement with everything else from their childhood. But with her mom always out of town now, she must not have thought Faith was desperate enough to get the answers for herself.
In the confines of her apartment, Faith lifted the first lid and placed it on the stained cream colored carpet. A mountain of photos greeted her and tears instinctively fell from her eyes. Having Hope and her father tucked away in a box was like erasing them from all their lives. She couldn't imagine the pain her mom must have suffered with their loss, but hiding them away and pretending they never existed couldn't have been the only way to survive the pain.
She picked up the photographs one by one, inspecting them in hopes it could release some memory trapped within her. Some were of her father posing with the rest of the family, some posing with Noah. There were dates jotted down on the back of the photographs, giving her a timeline of her past. There were a few where it was just her and Noah, him locked away as if to keep him a secret.
How close were they? She appeared happy in every single photo, as did he. Most of them weren't even staged, but candid and from a distance. The longer she looked at a photo of him swinging her in the air by her arms, the more she felt a tug somewhere deep within.
Faith closed her eyes and saw only a moment. Noah covered her entire body with his own. Then a shot rang out in the classroom. All she could remember was his body jerking and becoming heavy on top of her.
He'd been shot. She remembered now. Shot to protect her and keep his promise to her father.
Her phone came to life beside her and Faith jumped at the sudden sound, photographs dropping from her hand and landing every which way. Seeing her brother's photo on the screen, no doubt to wish her a happy birthday before starting his day, Faith answered.
"Was Noah shot?"
"What?"
He knew exactly who she was talking about. "Noah. Was he shot that day?"
Her brother's heavy breath filled her speakers. "You remember."
His voice sounded more disappointed than anything. It was something he was never able to understand. While he and her mother may have moved on with their lives, they did so because they remembered. They had memories to keep them going. Promises they made. Thoughts of their smiles to get them through the difficult times. They remembered feeling loved.
In Faith's twenty-one years, she didn't have any of that.
"Yes, I remember." It was sort of the truth. She remembered a moment, which was more than she'd ever had before. "He survived." She only said it as a statement because his face wasn't in the article under the victims. That, and Faith wanted to sound like she knew more than she did.
"Can't you please just let this go? You know how mom gets when you dredge this shit up."
Though her brother couldn't see her, she glared at the phone anyhow. He couldn't see her because he lived somewhere else. Her mother didn't live far away at all and still didn't see her. Faith reflected the daughter her mother lost.
She was done living her life as the silent, invisible daughter.
"I've tried it your guys' way," Faith reminded him. "I've tried having a life. It isn't working. Please, Ryan, just give me something."
Another heavy breath. "Grab a pen and paper."
Faith stood, feeling her legs tingle from sitting on them for so long, and wobbled over to her end table. After she grabbed a pencil and her notebook, she scanned for the nearest empty page and sat down on her bed. "Got it."
"(608) 897-0604."
She wrote the numbers quickly. "Who's phone number is this?" When he didn't respond, Faith pressed him. "Whose is it, Ryan?"
"It's his."
Normally the pronoun game was annoying as hell, but in this case, she knew exactly who her brother was referring to.
"I stole his number from mom's phone before she could delete it. Every year on the anniversary of the shooting, I check in on him. I don't know. We don't really say much about anything. He just wants to make sure you're doing okay. We let the other know when our phone number's change and only talk once a year."
Noah was still in her brother's life. Even if it was only in a tiny way, he'd kept that secret from her, and Faith wasn't sure if she'd ever have it in her to forgive him for that.
After hanging up on her brother, Faith dialed the number and sucked in a long slow breath, releasing it a few seconds later before pressing 'call'.
It was two rings before Faith lost her nerve and hung up. She dropped her phone on the bed and dangled herself off the end to collect one of the scattered photographs. Looking at him smiling at her, and her back at him, Faith couldn't remember a time where she looked that happy and carefree. It was her, but it felt like a different person.
Her phone rang again, her brother calling back to scold her for hanging up. Except when she looked, his face wasn't on the screen. It was the number she'd just dialed. She dropped the photograph again.
What was she supposed to do? If she allowed the phone to continue to ring, he'd get her voicemail and hear her name. She picked up, but when Faith opened her mouth to speak, no words came out.
"Someone there?"
Again, no sound came out. His voice sounded different from the one in her nightmare. It was more timid, older.
"I just got a call from this number."
"I-." What was she supposed to say? "I'm sorry. I dialed the wrong number."
"No worries. Have a nice day."
Just like that, the phone call ended. She'd chickened out a second time. For years, all she wanted was some sliver of honesty and some connection to her past; anything to help her find peace. She had a chance and allowed it to slip through her fingers.
Her phone dinged by her side and Faith saw she had a message and opened it.
'Looked up the area code and saw what state it was from. Faith, if this is you, I'm going to call you back and I need you to pick up. If it isn't you, just let it go to voicemail, and I apologize for bothering you.'
The phone rang again in her hand and Faith's finger hovered over the accept button. She closed her eyes and pressed it before bringing it up to her ear.
"How did you know?"
"Had a weird feeling in my gut," Noah explained. "Are you okay?"
A weird feeling. That's all it took for him to put the pieces together. Ryan told her that their father always called him the smartest man he knew. It was one of the few things shared about Noah.
"I'm fine, thanks. How are you?" Her response was the natural one she always gave, but Faith's palm went up to smack her forehead.
She heard a soft laugh on the other end of the line. "I'm good. You sound all grown up, Faith."
The more words he spoke, the more she heard the similarity between the voice on the phone and the voice from her dreams. Something about that voice felt so familiar, hidden in a place she couldn't quite reach but called out to her.
"You sound older too," was all Faith could think to say.
"So, you remember me." Noah didn't say it as a question.
"I remember you asking me if I trusted you. I always have the same dream, and you always ask me that."
"That's all you remember?"
Faith looked at the photograph that sat on her bed. "Until about ten minutes ago. I was looking at some old photographs and remembered a bit more about what happened. I remembered you getting shot."
There was a lengthy pause on the other end before he responded. "I never thought your mom would ever let you see all that stuff."
Her body tightened only for a moment. "She's out of town. I sort of stole them," Faith admitted before continuing. "I know all of this is out of the blue and crazy random, but I was wondering if maybe I could see you. I've got some money saved up and I'm between jobs, so I thought I'd get a plane ticket and stay a few days. I really want to find out more and my brother doesn't want to make waves with my mom."
"No."
And just like that, Faith's body went limp.
"You message me all the info I need, and I'll get the plane ticket for you."
A smile took over Faith's face. It wasn't something she was entirely comfortable accepting, but a plane ticket on this short of notice would cost about as much as a security deposit on a new apartment. She didn't know this man. She only knew him from a dream and the photographs in front of her, and that was it.
It wasn't right allowing him to purchase a plane ticket for her, and it probably wasn't smart traveling to see a man she didn't know. Even so, Faith needed to do this.
"So, you don't mind seeing me?"
"Not a day has gone by where I haven't worried about you, Faith. I need to see with my own two eyes that you're okay."
Those two sentences made her feel more cared for than anything her mother had ever said to her in the last fourteen years.
"The thing is, I moved back to Madison about three years ago. I don't know if you're okay with that. If you're not, we can figure something else out."
That's where the shooting had taken place. He'd moved back to the place where her first life began and ended. Maybe it wasn't just him she was meant to go to for answers, but the place she'd lived the first seven years of her life. If anyone could help her remember, it was him. If any place could help her remember, it was there.
"I need to do this. I can't explain why, but-"
"You don't need to explain yourself, Faith, and certainly not to me. I'll get started on that plane ticket and message you about any info I need. And Faith?"
"Yeah?"
"Happy birthday."