Forget to Remember

up.”
    As soon as the call ended, Frances ordered a DNA test kit to be sent to Mrs. Horton. Then she called a friend of hers in Raleigh who owed her a favor. He agreed to check the terms of the wills left by Richard and Helen Sakai.
    Frances found a picture of Cynthia Sakai on a Web site for missing persons, but it wasn’t a good shot. Cynthia’s hair was longer than Carol’s. Their features and coloring were similar, but shadows on the Web picture made it difficult to compare their eyes. It wasn’t conclusive one way or another whether Cynthia and Carol were the same person.

    CHAPTER 7
    “Everything checks out so far. The provisions of the will are what Paul Vigiano described. The preliminary value of the estate is estimated at about twenty million dollars, of which Paul Vigiano receives twenty-five percent if he finds Cynthia Sakai. Her parents and brother died in the crash of their small plane in the Atlantic Ocean. The bodies of the parents have been recovered, but not that of Michael, the brother. The grandmother’s name is Elizabeth Horton. She’s agreed to take a DNA test, but it will be several weeks before we get the results. I don’t think she’s mentioned it to Vigiano.”
    Frances paused to give Carol a chance to respond. Rigo had driven Carol to Frances’ house where they were preparing for Carol to call Vigiano.
    Carol shook her head. “The name Elizabeth Horton doesn’t register. Just as the name of the girl doesn’t. Cynthia Sakai. Could I be Cynthia Sakai?”
    “It starts with ‘C’ just like ‘Carol,’ the name you chose for yourself.” Rigo shrugged, realizing how far-fetched that was.
    “A hard ‘C’ and a soft ‘C.’ Not exactly a match. You’re trying to reach the roof without a ladder. Anyway, I probably pulled ‘Carol’ out of thin air.”
    “Don’t worry about not remembering names. After all, you’ve got amnesia.” Frances handed Carol the phone. “Do you mind if I listen in?”
    “Please do. I’m nervous about this, because I don’t know what to say. I can’t remember anything about my parents or my grandmother. Or about having a lot of money.”
    “Tell the truth. Don’t pretend to remember anything you don’t. If you do, Vigiano will see through it and think you’re a fortune hunter. Just be your charming self.”
    Carol had a surprised look. “You know, I hadn’t even thought about the money until you said that, at least as other than some abstract concept. But it would be nice to be able to pay back everything I owe you and Rigo’s parents. And help the children at the shelter.”
    “Don’t worry about that now. It’s ten thirty—one thirty in North Carolina. Go ahead and make the call.” Frances went into her bedroom and brought back a wireless receiver so she could listen.
    Carol realized her nervousness was fear of the unknown—or fear of the forgotten. She didn’t want to get her hopes up too high, but she had to find out whether there was any possibility she might be Cynthia Sakai. She punched in Paul Vigiano’s number. The woman who answered the phone put the call through to his office.
    “Hi, Carol, this is Paul Vigiano.”
    “Hello, Mr. Vigiano.”
    “Please call me Paul. I was very close to Cynthia’s parents. I’m hoping you are Cynthia.”
    “I’m sorry; I don’t know. I can’t remember anything about being Cynthia.”
    “At least you’re honest. Your voice sounds like I remember Cynthia’s.”
    “The voice expert said I didn’t have any trace of a southern accent.”
    “You wouldn’t. This part of North Carolina has become quite cosmopolitan. The kids you—or Cynthia—went to school with often came from somewhere else and didn’t have southern accents. Tell me, do you remember anything about your past life?”
    “Nothing, I’m afraid. I think I’ve been in the northeastern United States, and we think I’ve been in England.”
    “You know Cynthia went to college in New England and disappeared while she was working in London.”
    “What kind of work was she doing?”
“Actually, we think she was writing. A novel or something.”
“About what?”
    “I don’t know. Whatever she wrote seems to have disappeared along with her.”
    “How did she live?”
    “Her parents sent her money at first, but she disappeared almost immediately. I suspect from what they’ve said she may have done some modeling for an artist.”
    “You mean like nude modeling?” Carol was surprised this idea didn’t shock