I didn’t know about Stacy, but I knew I couldn’t take much more of this.
“Grandpa,” I said, looking at him. He was usually more straightforward than Grandma and less emotional. I loved them both, but if something was going on like I suspected, I trusted him to deliver the news more clearly and concisely. “Why are we doing this? Where’s Mom and Dad? Did something happen?”
Stacy looked up from her sundae.
Grandma frowned a little, and looked at Grandpa.
Grandpa sighed. “I don’t want to worry you girls, so let me preface by saying that everyone is fine,”
“Okay,” I said.
“But Annette… no… Amelia has remembered some things but forgotten some others,” Grandpa said. “Yes, Annette and Amelia have been the same person all along. She is your mother.”
“I knew it!” Stacy said.
I did too, but I
