Uncovering You: The Contract by Scarlett Edwards Page A

hell ?
    The sound is forgotten as I reach out and brush tentative fingers against the pillar’s surface. It’s cool to the touch. Smooth, too.
    I put my other hand on it. If I had to guess, I’d say it was made of marble. But what is a lone, white marble pillar doing in the middle of this room?
    The memory is like a gong going off inside my head. Trying to reach it is like grasping at a smooth, slippery stone at the bottom of an aquarium. Just when I think I have it, it slips through my fingers and falls further out of reach.
    I walk a slow, measured circle around the pillar. If I tried wrapping my arms around it, I doubt they would span half the circumference.
    Something far in the back of my mind tells me I should be alarmed. I look behind me and frown. By what? A dark room?
    No, you idiot. By the reason you’re here!
    My eyes widen. The reason I’m here? I don’t… I don’t remember.
    I wince and bring one hand to my temple. Why am I having so much trouble remembering?
    I gasp as a second gruesome thought hits me. Did I lose my memory? Do I have… amnesia?
    I sink down with my back to the pillar. Desperation starts to take over. I hold my head between my knees and close my eyes to focus.
    My name is Lilly Ryder. I was born in Cambridge, Massachusetts, on May 17 th , 1990.
    My eyes pop open. Joyous tears form in the corners. I do remember! I take a deep breath and try to keep going.
    I was raised by my mom. I do not know my dad…
    Suddenly, all my childhood memories come streaming back. Moving around as a kid. Never staying in one place longer than six months. All the cities I’ve lived in. All the apartments my mom and I called home. Even the revolving door of her boyfriends in my teens. There was Dave, and Matthew. Tom, and Steve. There was…
    I shake my head to stop myself. I don’t doubt my memory anymore.
    But that still does not explain why I have absolutely no recollection of this place, or how I got here.
    I push myself back up. The spotlight above me has gotten progressively brighter. The little enclosure of light doesn’t feel quite so tight anymore. I trail my eyes up the length of the pillar. I can’t see where it ends because of the light. But I can tell it’s tall, at least twenty, maybe twenty-five feet…
    There’s also something about its surface that calls out to me. My hands itch to run over the smooth stone. A giggle bubbles up as I picture myself stroking it. The column is quite phallic.
    I waver at the unfamiliar thought and have to catch my balance against the beam.
    Focus, Lilly! I chide myself.
    I have no idea where that thought came from. I have never been overtly sexual.
    Nothing feels right. The fog that’s heavy on my mind is starting to lift, but not enough for me to understand—or remember—where the hell I am. This place is unfamiliar. I know that much. But right now, I feel like a surgery patient whose anesthetic kinked out: fully awake mentally, but completely impaired physically.
    I go back to my memories. I can remember high school. I remember college. That’s where I spent the last three years of my life, isn’t it? Yes. Yes, it is.
    “Hello?” I call out. My voice echoes into the surrounding gloom. “Is anybody there?”
    I wait for an answer. All I get is the hollow repetition of my own voice.
    … anybody there, there, there…
    I spent the last three years in college… but that’s not where I think I am right now. No. I shake my head. I know that’s not where I am. My memories are fuzzier the closer I bring them to today. Time feels… skewed. Freshman year’s easy to remember. So is sophomore, and most of junior… but things get weird toward the end.
    I… finished junior year, didn’t I? Yes. Yes, I did. And then…
    And then I took an internship in distant California for the summer , I remember with another gasp.
    Suddenly, my mind is crystal clear. That pressing memory hurtles into view. It’s from yesterday. The last thing I recall, I was alone in