Prologue
I did not know who this girl was.
I did not want to call her Bailey. Bailey was gone; this girl looked like her, but she was not the same girl I had come to know. Her hair was the same, her eyes were identical, her fingers still long and delicate. But I knew on the inside, beneath her skin, she was not Bailey.
And so I didn't know who she was.
I kept telling myself that this whole thing was ridiculous and unreal; I kept convincing myself that one morning I'd wake up in the treehouse and see Bailey standing over me, a basket of strawberries in her hands. I kept wanting to believe that maybe she'd snap out of it and say, "Oh, Shadow!" and call me by my real name again. That she would cuddle against me again. That she'd attempt to kiss me again.
I kept making myself believe that she'd return to normal, that she'd remember.
I kept trying to convince myself that deep down, behind those blue eyes, this girl was Bailey.
But Bailey was gone; her soul had been stolen.
How do you revive someone?
How can you make them remember you when you lost sight of who you are?
