Telling Her Story—Memories, Lies and Revisions of the Truth
Each person has a story to tell, unique to that individual. And, that story is true to the degree that the individual is both the narrator and the protagonist. But, as protagonist, we experience or observe events that make up the individual's story, but as the narrator of the story, we are curators as opposed to being historians—we remember what we wish to remember, and we forget, or even ignore, those events or experiences that we choose to forget.
Annika Silde knew who she was and her story. Her nuclear family was different. She grew up under the care of her grandmother after her parents died. But she and her grandmother were not alone. Annika had a companion growing up with her, an aunt who was actually younger than she was. So now, as an adult, Annika, the grandchild was the primary breadwinner for the grandmother and the aunt. And so, the college graduate continued her tiresome, unrewarding job—both personally and financially—with the Oakland Branch of Offiply, Inc—an office supply company. But while both her job and pay satisfaction were low, Annika labored on—she had emotional and financial responsibilities to support her grandmother by covering the cost of her eldercare facility. But her story and the story of her best friend Corrine Halstead were about to merge.
Annika and Corrine had first met as assigned roommates their freshman year in college, and by luck, the relationship of two strangers had grown close over the last 10 years, from college dorms to first jobs and a shared apartment. And, the girls were not only good friends, they were often thought to be sisters. Sharing similar coloring—blue eyes and light brown hair; the girls both had a sprinkling of freckles across their noses, and they were of similar build and height—5’5”. From a distance, they were often mistaken for the other. And up close, unless side-by-side, only a very astute observer would notice that Corinne had more freckles, higher cheekbones, and a slenderer face, while Annika had fewer freckles, noticeable dimples and a rounder face. The two friends’ stories aligned from the age of 19 to 29, and each knew the other’s family. And, even much of their middle grades and high school experiences connected. But the small details of their early years were not addressed—ever.
So, on the night when Annika left work late, collecting a few more dollars for overtime, she was tired and not interested in any additional complications to her day. And, when her bus didn’t slow to stop at her designated stop, she was not amused. Challenging the driver’s omission of her stop, he pointed down the street which was filled with a sea of bodies and impassable for his bus. But, he did stop to allow her to exit. As she made her way through the crowd, she heard her roommate’s name. And when her own identity was questioned, she ran, slipping into her building through a back service-door.
Arriving tired and confused by the gathered crowd, she confronted her best friend about why the name Corrine Halstead would ignite the crowd and send Annika fleeing to escape. As Corrine began to explain, she shared an unexpected chapter of the life, a time when she had been known as Allium Zefrink, an unloved heiress who had been kidnapped. And, the two best friends who were often mistaken for each other, hatched a plan to exchange identities to benefit each other. And, gaps of unknown information would become “amnesia,” perhaps even resulting from the trauma of her kidnapping, since everyone has events in life that are “forgotten” while other events are “remembered” or “invented” "re-structured" in telling of an individual’s story.
Caleb Bourne leads his reader into a tale of secrecy, abuse and love—both remembered, new and evolving—into unexpected new chapters in the life story of Annika and her friend, Corrine, the lost girl, Allium.
I received a free copy of this book as an ARC and am voluntarily leaving a review.