My mom is still fast asleep when I slip out of our room at the inn. This time I left her a note and told her I’d have my cell phone on me. For the past two months, I’ve tried to keep up running since it clears my head and allows all the pressure of remembering anything to disappear. Thankfully, Mandi isn’t at the reservation desk. I’m pretty sure the guy who is there knows who I am though, due to his furrowed brow when I wave and walk out the doors. At least in Idaho, I didn’t always feel like everyone knew more about me than I did. Was I nice to the guy or were we childhood enemies? Who knows? I put in my earbuds, scroll through my running app, and turn on my music. I’m in this whole grunge music phase. My mom says she doesn’t remember what kind of music I listened to, but she doesn’t t