Never Forgotten by Kelly Risser




  By: Kelly Risser

  Clean Teen Publishing

  THIS book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the authors' imagination or are used factiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  NO part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Never Forgotten

  Copyright ©2014 Kelly Risser

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 978-1-940534-86-2

  Cover Design by: Marya Heiman

  Typography by: Courtney Nuckels

  Editing by: Cynthia Shepp

  For more information about our content disclosure, please utilize the QR code above with your smart phone or visit us at

  www.cleanteenpublishing.com.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  10 years earlier

  Meara, where are you?

  I started to fall asleep when I heard Daddy’s voice. At least, he told me he was my daddy. I’d never met him.

  “Daddy?” I called in the dark. My throat felt funny, like when Mommy made me gargle with salt water when I had a cold. I held back a sneeze; a strange smell tickled my nose.

  Meara, honey. I’m looking for you. Where are you?

  He sounded far away. Why was Daddy sad? My stomach tightened, and my eyes welled with tears. “Where are you, Daddy?”

  Silence. The pain vanished, quick as it came. He was gone. I jumped out of bed and ran to my mom’s room.

  “Daddy’s so sad!”

  I flung myself onto her bed and crawled up until I could wrap my arms around her. Burying my face in her neck, I breathed in the gardenia perfume she always wore. “He wants to see us, Mommy, but he can’t find us,” I mumbled against her skin.

  My mom sat up, wrapping her arm around me. She whispered in my ear and stroked my hair. “It’s okay, Meara. You just had a bad dream.”

  “I wasn’t asleep.” I raised my head and dared her to challenge me. She didn’t say anything, but she looked funny. Was Mommy scared? My lip quivered. “Mommy, why isn’t Daddy with us?”

  “Oh, pumpkin.” Mom sighed and leaned back against the headboard, her arm tight around me. “It’s complicated. I love your father, and he loves us, but it just didn’t work out. He can’t be with us.”

  “Why not?” I searched her face, but she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  “You won’t understand, sweetie. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

  All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy;

  for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves;

  we must die to one life before we can enter another.

  - Anatole France

 
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