The news reporters called it a disaster.
The doctors called it a miracle.
I could still walk. I could still talk. I could still remember every little detail about the train crash.
Until I couldn’t.
Six weeks later, I lost my memory.
I woke up believing that it was the morning of the accident.
Six weeks after that, it happened again.
I have retrograde amnesia. I’ve damaged a part of my brain which allows me to recall the recent past. In other words, I have an extremely limited short-term memory – six weeks to be exact.
The train derailed eighteen months ago.
I’ve relived that morning twelve times.
When I meet Spencer Hale, I put up a huge fight.
I won’t let him in. I can’t let him in. But with each day that passes, my walls begin to come down.
I get one step closer to loving him.
And one step closer to losing him.
Welcome to the train wreck that is my life.