But he’d been hiding something entirely different.
He was frightened of losing his memories.
And he’d been carrying that fear alone for five months.
I covered my face and cried.
I thought about every forgotten grocery item.
Every misplaced set of keys.
Every time he’d repeated a question.
I’d rolled my eyes.
Called him an old man.
Teased him for being distracted.
All those months, he’d already known something was wrong.
And I hadn’t.
—
When I finally managed to look at the laptop again, I opened the next file.
A spreadsheet.
Its title was simple.
THE PLAN
It was arranged in neat columns, exactly the way Mark organized construction projects.
Dates.
Names.
Telephone numbers.
Deposits.
Tasks.
The first entry listed the Gull’s Nest café.
Carol had reserved the outdoor deck for September 20 at five o’clock.
The next entry was the Lakeview Inn.
