After the mini episode of my memory playing in my head, I can't stop thinking about it.

I've been too busy with getting back on my feet, school and my relationship with Kyle that I haven't really had the time to think things through. But now, I do. From what Lily and Aunt Abbie have shared with me, neither of them believe that Mom and I would have left town without leaving a note behind. Because of this, I can't shake off the suspicion that there's something amiss. Something which I can't quite figure out.

Why would Mom want us to leave in the first place?

And there's the problem with my father. I should be thankful he hasn't appeared in front of me yet, but when he does, I want answers about the claims he's making. I want him to leave me alone.

After lunch, Kyle and I are hanging out in his bedroom. I see him scramble about to clear the mess in his room, even though it isn't as bad as I would have thought. He shoves a couple of clothes into the wardrobe and comics underneath the bed before turning to me with a boyish smile.

"Want to watch a movie?"

The idea is tempting. "Maybe later? I've assignments due tomorrow."

Even though he clearly looks disappointed, he gives in immediately when I show him the big fat 45 marks scrawled in red at the top right of my quiz paper, which I took last week.

"I didn't mean to fail it," I blurt out guiltily. "I just...didn't feel smart on that day."

He laughs and flicks my nose. "Silly. I think this is justifiable considering you started school not too long ago. How much do you remember about the subject?"

From here onwards, he is my personal tutor. Apparently, he's one of the top students in his batch and he's taking his finals at the end of the year. When I attempt to decline his suggestion, mainly because I don't wish for him to waste more of his time on me when he should study, he gives me an odd look, one that's clearly wondering if I'm insane.

His decision is final—he's teaching me and that's it.

We end up occupying his study desk with our books flipped open. There's just one problem though—I can't concentrate when he's too near to me. It's illegal to be this good-looking and smart at the same time.

He catches me looking when he's trying to explain how to solve an algebraic equation. He nudges my shoulder once, his face too close to mine and his dark face spilling over his forehead.

"Riley? Are you alright? You seem really out of it."

"Oh no, I'm good," I answer, except that I don't sound convincing.

He frowns and thinks I'm troubled by something else. "You told me you couldn't sleep last night. Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"

Right, my father. I can't believe I forgot to tell him.

"Kyle? Someone came to my house the other day. My aunt says it's my father."

He stiffens. "Your father?"

I understand his confusion and relay all the details that Aunt Abbie has told me. When I'm done, Kyle goes into his full protective boyfriend mode. His eyes blaze with anger and concern. "You're telling me this now? You didn't come to school alone this morning, right?"

"No. Aunt Abbie drove me in her car."

A worried frown crosses his face. "That's it," he decides. "I'll drive you to school and back home starting from today."

I don't argue. I let him pull me into a hug, feeling his hands around me. His fingers slide into my hair and cradle my head. When I look up, his face is inches from mine, his lips less than a breath away. I'm reminded of the kiss we last shared when I confessed to him about my memory loss. The experience was short but nice, sending tingles down my spine.

I'm waiting for him to make a move. When he doesn't and continues to gaze at me, I let out an exasperated sigh.

"What's stopping you?"

He's genuinely surprised by my question. "You."

"Me? What did I do?"

"Nothing. It's just...the last time I didn't really ask for your permission and forced a kiss on you." He winces at the memory. "This time, I'll wait."

My body relaxes against his. "Well, you don't have to wait anymore. Permission granted."

I smile and tilt my chin upward to press my lips against his. He groans and pulls me closer towards him, never mind the fact that I'm almost on his lap as he gives me a few pecks. His face nuzzles my neck and nips the skin there playfully. He doesn't stop until I squeal and swat at his shoulder.

I push his face away. "Hey! What if your mom walks past this room and sees us like this?"

He cracks a humored smile. "It's not the first time."

A rush of heat blooms across my cheeks. "How many times were we caught?"

"Err... A few times?"

Embarrassed, I bury my face in my hands and groan, ignoring his snicker. Why is he not the slightest bit embarrassed?! This is his mother we're talking about!

When I finally get over my moment of shame, I glance up and catch him staring at me with a tight smile.

"Riley, you mentioned your dad wanted to take you home. A-are you considering it?"

I see the raw emotions in his eyes—fear and sadness. He's afraid that I'm going to leave him again.

"Of course not," I promise. "I'm staying right here with you."

He visibly relaxes and hugs me again, pressing his head into my shoulder. He may not have spoken a word, but his silence speaks volume. I understand his feelings and I mean what I said about not leaving him.

Two hours later, we wrap up our study session and have a pizza delivered for dinner because we can't trust Lily's cooking. When it's time to head home, Kyle insists on being my chauffeur and grabs his car keys. The weather here is a little fickle-minded; it rains right after we pull out of his driveway and onto the main road.

I listen to the pitter patter on the car's roof and watch as raindrops hit the windshield. As Kyle drives down the street, he's planning more studying sessions and, of course, more dates. It's like he wants to spend every day and every minute with me.

"Riley, there's this movie playing in the theaters. Shall we watch next—"

"Riley, don't look back!"

A woman's voice shrills in my head and muffles Kyle's. My body tenses immediately and my hands grab my seat for safety. My eyes are wide with fear as I scan my surroundings for the strange voice. But I see no one except Kyle, who's noticing my strange behavior.

"Babe." He gives me a worried frown. "Are you listening to me?"

I don't answer, because I can't seem to form any words with my lips. I can still hear the same voice murmuring faintly in the distance, sending fear running through my veins. Does Kyle not hear what I'm hearing?

"Baby... Run..."

My mouth runs dry. Sweat glistens on my forehead as my pulse races with every passing second. My breath is coming faster and I hyperventilate. The woman's voice doesn't stop whispering warnings into my ears, sounding anxious and frantic. A second later, there's the sound of car tyres squealing across the gravel and I flinch.

But when I look up, I realize it's not our car—Kyle's still driving in the lane.

We're safe and sound.

Screams fill my ears suddenly. I instinctively clutch my ears painfully and squeeze my eyes shut. There's the sound of a loud crash, the motion of the car overturning and glass shattering. Broken shards rips and cuts across my skin painfully.

The last thing I hear are just two quiet words.

"I'm sorry."

And I feel myself falling down into the abyss, heading straight for the darkness.