I smile. “That’s only two months away for me.” I press my lips to hers and can feel her chest rise against mine with her quick intake of breath. God, the torture.

Her tongue slips inside my mouth as her hand cradles the back of my head, pulling me closer. The sweet, sweet torture.

I lower my hand to her waist, inching her shirt up little by little until my fingers have access to her skin. I splay my hand out across her waist, feeling the heat from her body against my palm.

I continue to kiss her as my hand explores more of her, inch by inch, until one of my fingertips meets the fabric of her bra.

I want to keep going—to feel the softness beneath my fingertips. I want to—

“Silas!”

Charlie sinks into the mattress. Her entire body is absorbed by the sheets, and I’m left palming her empty pillow.

What the hell? Where did she go? People don’t just disappear into thin air.

“Silas, open the door!”

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Charlie? Where are you?”

“Wake up!”

I open my eyes and I’m no longer in Charlie’s bed.

I’m no longer a fourteen-year-old boy about to touch a boob for the first time.

I’m…Silas. Lost and confused and sleeping in a damn car.

A fist pounds against my driver-side window. I allow my eyes a few more seconds to adjust to the sunlight pouring into my car before I look up.

Landon is standing at my door. I immediately sit up and turn around, looking behind me, to the sides of me.

It’s only Landon. No one else is with him.

I reach for the handle on the door and wait for him to step aside before I swing it open. “Did you find her?” I ask, stepping out of my car.

He shakes his head. “No, they’re still looking.” He squeezes the back of his neck, just like I do when I’m nervous or stressed.

I open my mouth to ask him how he knew where to find me. But then I close my mouth after remembering I asked him about this house right before I hung up on him. Of course he would look here.

“You need to help them find her, Silas. You have to tell them everything you know.”

I laugh. Everything I know. I lean against my car and fold my arms across my chest. I stop smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation, and I lock eyes with my little brother. “I don’t know anything, Landon. I don’t even know you. And as far as my memory is concerned, I’ve never even met Charlize Wynwood. How am I supposed to tell the police that?”

Landon’s head is tilted. He’s staring at me…silent and curious. He thinks I’ve gone crazy; I can see it in his eyes.

He might be right.

“Get in the car,” I tell him. “I have a lot to tell you. Let’s go for a drive.”

I open my door and climb back inside. He waits several seconds, but then he walks to the car parked in the ditch. He locks it and then makes his way to my passenger door.

“Let me get this straight,” he says, leaning forward in the booth. “You and Charlie have both been losing your memories for over a week now. You’ve both been writing yourselves letters. Those letters were in the backpack Janette found and turned in to the police. The only person who knows about this is some random tarot reader. It happens at the same time of day, every forty-eight hours, and you claim to have no recollection of what happened the day before she went missing?”

I nod.

Landon laughs and falls back against his seat. He shakes his head and picks up his drink, sticking the straw in his mouth. He takes a long sip and then sighs heavily as he returns his glass to the table.

“If this is your way of trying to get away with her murder, you’re going to need a much stronger alibi than a damn voodoo curse.”

“She’s not dead.”

He raises a questioning eyebrow. I can’t blame him. If the tables were turned, there’s no way in hell I would believe everything that just came out of my mouth.

“Landon, I don’t expect you to believe me. I really don’t. It’s ridiculous. But for the sake of shits and giggles, will you just humor me for a few hours? Just pretend you believe me and answer questions for me, even if you think I already know the answers. Then tomorrow you can turn me in to the police if you still think I’m crazy.”

He shakes his head and looks disappointed. “Even if I thought you were crazy, I would never turn you in to the police, Silas. You’re my brother.” He motions for the waiter to come over and refill his drink. He takes a sip and then gets comfortable. “Okay. Fire away.”

I smile. I knew I liked him for a reason.

“What happened between Brett and our father?”

Landon laughs under his breath. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters. “You know more about that than I do.” But then he leans forward and begins to answer my question. “An investigation was launched a couple of years ago due to an external audit. A lot of people lost a lot of money. Dad was cleared and Brett was charged with fraud.”

“Is Dad really innocent?”

Landon shrugs. “I’d like to think he is. His name was dragged through the mud and he lost the majority of his business after what happened. He’s been trying to rebuild it, but no one trusts him with their money now. But I guess we can’t complain. We still fared better than Charlie’s family did.”

“Dad accused Charlie of taking some files from his office. What was he talking about?”

“They couldn’t figure out where the money went, so they assumed Brett or Dad was hiding it in offshore accounts. There was a stretch before the trial where Dad didn’t sleep for three days. He went through every detail of every transaction and every receipt recorded for the past ten years. One night he came out of his office holding a file. He said he found it—found where Brett was keeping the money. He finally had the information he needed to hold Brett responsible for the entire thing. He called his lawyer and told him he would deliver the evidence as soon as he got a couple hours of sleep. The next day…he couldn’t find the files. He blew up on you, assuming you had warned Charlie about it. He believes to this day that Charlie took those files. She denied it. You denied it. And without the evidence he claimed to have, they could never charge Brett on all counts. He’ll probably be out of jail in five years with good behavior, but from what Dad says, those files would have put him away for life.”