Forty-Nine Days of His Fake Amnesia Chapter 10
Christmas. Highpine Mountain saw its first snow.
Iris carried my moonstone urn up the pass.
New guardrails along the road. At the curve, a small warning sign.
“Cherish rescue time.”
The wind bit cold.
I floated beside Iris. Watched her lay white camellias by the guardrail.
Soft. “Naomi. I brought you home.”
No headstone.
No funeral.
No Ward family crypt.
Never “Mrs. Ward” again.
Iris followed my wish. Scattered my ashes into Highpine Valley.
Gray powder caught the wind. Dissolved into pine and snow.
Not far, a police car waited.
Evan stood in cuffs. Two escorts beside him.
This was his last request before prison.
He couldn’t come close. Watched from thirty feet away.
Iris walked down.
Evan’s voice cracked. “Did she… have anything else?”
Iris stopped.
“No.”
Evan nodded. Like he’d known.
He took the moon-signal whistle from his pocket. Placed it under the sign.
Someone had repaired it. The crack remained. No sound came.
He crouched down. Wiped the snow off with his sleeve.
“Naomi. I’ll leave it here.”
No answer.
“I won’t make you wait anymore.”
The escorts called time.
Evan stood. Stumbled.
Before getting in, he looked back. Long.
The wind passed through the whistle’s hole. Silent.
Time stopped meaning anything.
I drifted. Watched Highpine Pack get a new leader from the Lycan Alpha.
Evan’s assets sold off. Compensation. Road repairs. Rescue equipment.
The streaming platform shut down.
The people who mocked my screams got subpoenas. Lawyer letters.
Mira still wouldn’t admit fault in prison.
She wrote Evan letters.
He never answered.
Three months into his sentence, a letter arrived at Iris’s office.
One sheet.
A crooked drawing of a moon-signal whistle.
One line beside it.
[I finally know. That day, she wasn’t acting for me.]
Iris read it. Fed it to the shredder.
Paper scraps fell into the bin. Light.
Regret arrived too late to reach the dead.
My soul grew faint.
The last moment, I saw Highpine Mountain again. Ten years ago.
Evan and I were lost. Rain pouring.
He held up a flashlight. Mud-soaked. Found me. Breathless. Hung the whistle around my neck.
“Naomi. Don’t be afraid. Signal’s bad here. But whenever you blow it—I promised I would find you.”
I believed him.
For years.
Now I know. The wind was just too loud that night. Couldn’t hear the lies.
Snow fell on the warning sign.
Iris walked down with her umbrella. Steady.
I watched her go. Felt peace.
The wind passed through the whistle. No sound came. The show was finally over.
I closed my eyes. And for the first time in forty-nine days, I was still.