Glimmer
says.

Chapter 13
ELYSE
     
    Fresh white paint gleams on the faux-Greek columns of the Summer Falls Public Library, making the building look new even though, from the style, I can tell it must be old. Very old.
    Back when I had my memory, though, I probably took its well-preserved beauty for granted.
    I try to picture my pre-amnesia self racing over here every day after school. Browsing the new books shelf, loading my backpack with hardcovers. If I came in here all the time, the librarians must know me pretty well . . . that thought gives me some trepidation. What if one of them guesses there’s something wrong with me?
    Feeling a tingle of apprehension, I bound up the three marble steps and pull open the heavy door. A narrow shaft of sunlight disappears behind me as the door snaps shut, leaving me in a cool, dimly lit hallway.
    Through a glass window, I can see into the library proper: metal browsing shelves, long wooden tables where patrons sit studying or reading, and the librarian’s desk.
    The walls in this entryway are lined with cork bulletin boards sprouting colorful flyers announcing summer fair events, from town softball games to pie-baking contests.
    But the main focus is a single exhibit behind glass in the center of the room. It’s a dollhouse-like model of Main Street, it looks like, and the surrounding town. A “You are here” flag hangs from a pin stuck in the library building. The shop window of Mollie’s is painted the exact same shade of orange as it is in real life. Someone’s obsessive about their hobby . . . or is this all just more show for the tourists? Outside the circle representing town is a white-capped plastic mountain.
    I read the caption below the model. “The Summer Falls Effect. How come the weather is always warm and sunny here? Many scientists believe our perfect weather is a happy accident caused by Kiowa glacier’s proximity to our town. You might think a glacier would make things colder, but scientists know better!”
    I frown at the plastic mountain, wondering how the hell it could make anything hotter.
    The librarian doesn’t notice me entering. Her frizzy graying head is bent over a stack of books that she’s vigorously ink-stamping.
    My hands feel clammy as I approach her desk. “Hi,” I say, trying to sound casual and upbeat. Will she know me well enough to guess that something’s wrong?
    “Heya.” The librarian looks up from her stamping and smiles at me. “Enjoying your stay?”
    I blink. Wait . . . she thinks I’m a tourist? “I’m from here ,” I say, feeling irked. Just my luck, the normal librarian must be sick today.
    “My mistake. I’ve never seen you in the library before.” The woman slips off her reading glasses and lets them hang around her neck from their string of beads. “Of course,” she says, and pops her glasses back onto her nose. “I do recognize you now, from the Sunrays games.” She wiggles her shoulders and waves her arms, mimicking pom-poms. “Go, Rays!” She turns back to her ink-stamping.
    “Go, Rays,” I repeat dumbly, trying my best to hide my disappointment. So my bookworm status, the one thing about my former self that sounded right to me, turns out to be bull. I’ve never set foot in the library. I don’t get it. Why would Liz say I had a reading habit if I didn’t? How am I supposed to remember my life if she can’t get her facts straight about her own daughter? Does she have a memory problem too or what?
    Is everyone’s memory scrambled in this town?
    That thought makes the hairs on my arms prickle to attention.
    I wander into the stacks, still pondering. Clearly there are major problems with memory loss here. That would explain the whole conversation between Kerry and the sheriff. Is there just something in the water here, a chemical that makes people slowly lose their memories? Until . . . until they end up like me? And get shipped off to an asylum?
    Not if they don’t find out.
    “Excuse me,” I

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