The Threat

Chapter 5 | Remembrance: A Re-Writing

Welcome to Remembrance!

I’m thrilled to have you here. This is the fifth chapter in my serialized novel. If you’re new ‘round these parts, you can check out the Table of Contents here. The first five chapters of this novel are free to read; to read the rest, upgrade to a paid subscription for the cost of an ebook:

Previously, Leah received a mysterious warning about her treatment and faced a decision regarding who she thinks she can trust.

In this chapter, Leah leans into her intuition and makes a risky decision, encountering a mysterious figure as she dives deeper into the mystery surrounding her treatment.

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Photo by Taylor Vick on Unsplash

“I’m going to do it. I’m going to go.”

Sarah, still on the phone as Leah drove away from the clinic, sighed. “I knew you were going to land there. Promise me you’ll be safe.”

“I’ll share my location with you before I leave.”

Sarah scoffed. “Share it with Connor. If you’re going, I’m going with you.”

“Going with me?”

“Leah, I know you said you’re feeling less anxious and less unmoored now. And I’m glad to hear that, really. But I also know too many horror stories about young women meeting up with strange men under false pretenses and disappearing, or worse.”

“Sarah…”

“No, friend. Let me finish. With all the respect in the world, you’ve proven this weekend that your thinking isn’t unbiased or objective or, frankly, trustworthy right now. And while I can hope, in the abstract, that it’s all in the rearview and we’ve got clear skies moving forward, everything I’m seeing contradicts that.”

A streak of lightning snaked its way across Leah’s field of vision, followed a few moments later by a peal of thunder rumbling toward her like a tidal wave.

She has a point.

“I won’t interfere if you don’t want me to, Leah. I’ll drive my own car and sit at a different table and pretend to read a book or call my mom. But if you’re going to insist on showing up, you’re not showing up alone.”

Leah sighed. “Fair enough. Thank you.”

-

On Saturday morning, Leah pulled out of the parking lot of her complex with Sarah hot on her heels. She was buzzing with a nervous, excited energy that had, over the course of the week, taken the place of the anxiety she’d been experiencing since the crash. She hadn’t touched her medication in the intervening days, and the orange bottle was still nestled in the cupholder of her car.

Unexpected but welcome opportunity. Our chance to monitor. Stay well.

The puzzle pieces swirled around in her mind like a tornado, refusing to be pinned down or snapped into their rightful place.

The drive wasn’t a long one, and Leah made it to the square on mental autopilot. Ron Green Park was a social hub on the weekends—pickup sports games, lots of trails to walk, and the coffee shop, of course. Pulling into a parking spot, Leah noticed that Sarah was no longer immediately behind her. She chose not to wait, instead stepping into the wide open lawn, her eyes drawn towards the Coffee Spot’s patio seating area. She studied the occupants of each table briefly as she looked for Peter among the brunch crowd, but his face—as best she remembered it from their brief interaction at the clinic—was not among them.

Undeterred, Leah entered the shop to order a cup of coffee and a pastry. The shop itself was crowded, bustling with life and humming with the constant noise of well-caffeinated weekenders. Friendships and first dates and writers of all ages and flavors clacking away on plastic keys. The smell of coffee and cinnamon wafted throughout the shop.

This place feels so alive!

Leah herself was feeling more alive than she had in months. As she stood on her tippy toes, trying to read the menu as she waited in line, she noticed a familiar face standing in the pick-up area.

Natalie?

Just at that moment, the women’s eyes met across the shop. Natalie raised a hand in greeting, a smile breaking out across her face. Leah waved back, hesitantly, and Natalie pointed over the crowd in the direction of the patio, her lips moving. She was too far away to be heard, but Leah got the gist and gave her a thumbs up.

A few minutes later, steaming latte in one hand and muffin in the other, Leah made her way back out to the patio, where Natalie had claimed a table for them. She seated herself across from from the receptionist, who smiled warmly and welcomed her.

“Leah.” Her voice sounded almost affectionate. “It’s so good to see you. Thank you so much for meeting me here. I know it was not exactly the most… open or obvious invitation.”

“Of course. I was intrigued by the notes Peter left on my handout and had to know more—honestly, I assumed he’d be the one I’d be meeting today. But it’s good to see you, too. I don’t know what you were hoping to talk about this morning, but I have questions.”

“Good! That’s what I like to hear.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Leah noticed Sarah sit down at a table a few yards away. She set her own coffee down and pulled a stack of books and notebooks out of her bag. There was no eye contact, no indication that she’d seen Leah or that she even knew her… but Leah was comforted to know where she was.

Natalie took a sip of her coffee. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and paused for a moment. Then she set her mug down on the table and looked up at Leah.

“You know, Leah, it’s funny. I’ve visualized this moment so many times. I’ve been hoping that we would have a chance to talk like this. But now that we’re here, I don’t even really know where to begin.”

Leah chuckled half-heartedly, mildly uncomfortable by the continuation of Natalie’s borderline-affectionate behavior. Their relationship certainly wasn’t unfriendly, but it was purely professional, and Leah wasn’t sure what to make of the other woman’s tone.

“I don’t want to say too much…” Natalie continued. “Can’t say too much. But I suppose this is as good a place to start as any: there is no clinical trial.”

Here she paused, waiting for Leah’s reaction.

“There is no clinical trial?” Leah repeated, still processing the sentence and its implications. “But if I’m not enrolled in a clinical trial, then what have I been doing at the clinic for the last year?”

Natalie nodded. “That’s the million dollar question. I wish I could give you a complete answer. But all is not as it seems at the McNeill Institute.”

Leah’s mind was reeling. “If there’s no clinical trial, then why haven’t I had a migraine since I started?”

“I think the better question would be, why were you having migraines in the first place?”

“I’ve always had migraines, Natalie. Since I was a teenager. And when I found the trial—well, it’s specifically developed for migraine with aura, which is the type of migraine that I get. I was really drawn to it because… well, my mom had a migraine-stroke last year and is still recovering. She hardly seems like the same woman I used to know, and that’s not even addressing the physical issues.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Leah. What do you mean when you say that she hardly seems like the same woman?”

“She walks slower, of course. And she’s struggling to regain some of that muscle function… But she speaks so differently now. Beyond what I would have expected from a stroke, even. And her memory is so inconsistent. She’ll tell me stories from my childhood that are completely false, and when I allude to something that I remember from growing up, she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

Leah paused for a moment, lost in thought and grief.

“Everyone tells you that things will change, but I guess I didn’t really believe them.”

“Sweet Leah. That sounds really, really difficult.”

A sad smile formed on her lips, in spite of herself. “It can be. But we make do. It’s tough sometimes, since it’s just her, and the caregiver isn’t there full time. I wish my dad could have been here to help me make those decisions. But we make do.”

Natalie didn’t respond, lost in thought.

“But you still didn’t answer my questions about the treatment Dr. Pierucci is giving me. If it isn’t a clinical trial, what is it? What have they been doing to me?”

“I couldn’t say. I’m just a receptionist, after all. I’ve got a birds-eye view of what’s going on, but I don’t know much by way of details. We don’t have any other patients participating in the clinical trial, and when I tried to look it up, there was no information about it available anywhere. We participate in trials on a somewhat regular basis, but the one you’re enrolled in simply doesn’t exist.”

Suddenly, fear flashed in Natalie’s eyes.

“How did he know we would be here?” Natalie muttered under her breath. Her eyes were scanning back and forth across the green, analyzing every nook and cranny.

Leah looked around, confused. She wasn’t certain who Natalie was referring to. No one on the green or at the café looked familiar to her. A young family—mom, dad, two kids—playing soccer in one corner of the green. An older woman and a boy who was likely her grandson. A father teaching his daughter how to ride a bike. And a young man approaching the coffee shop by himself.

By process of elimination, “he” probably meant the latter. Dark hair, blue jeans, strong Mediterranean facial features. Not, all things considered, a bad-looking young man. She didn’t recognize him, and she didn’t think looked particularly threatening.

Leah turned back to her companion, who had slipped lower into her seat and was fiddling with the scarf around her neck.

“Leah, I’m so sorry to do this to you, but we’re going to have to cut this short.”

“Cut this short? Do you have somewhe—”

Leah trailed off mid-sentence as she saw Sarah stand up in her peripheral vision, walking in the direction Natalie had been staring. She made her way over to the man walking toward the café, and picking up the pace as they drew nearer to one another. Leah watched as Sarah, nearly in a full run, wrapped the man in a hug, almost bowling him over.

Who is that guy? Does Connor know about this?

She couldn’t make out the exact words that Sarah was saying, but she could hear the tone: excited, almost overjoyed, as if the young man were an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. When she finally released him, she tousled his hair affectionately, much to his apparent chagrin and confusion. Together they walked in the direction of the patio.

Natalie’s voice interrupted Leah’s train of thought, its urgency drawing her back to their conversation.

“Now’s your chance. Step inside, return your plate and your mug, and use the side exit to leave the building. Walk the long way around, and whatever you do, don’t make eye contact with the man with the dark hair coming this way.”

Dumbfounded, Leah didn’t know how to respond. Before she could collect her thoughts, Natalie was weaving between tables, her scarf wrapped around her head, her face turned downward. Leah watched, speechless, as the other woman practically raced down the length of the green space and disappeared behind another building.

She glanced back at Sarah, who was gesticulating wildly to the man whose very presence Natalie had deemed an existential threat, a huge grin on her face.

She stacked the remaining dishes and made her way to the door of the coffee shop.

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