Page 329 of Black Reign

My old table is still here.

I run my fingertips along the wood and find the small gouge near one corner.

I made that.

Papa had been teaching me binary while repairing a radio, and I decided a butter knife was an acceptable screwdriver.

It wasn't.

“You broke something there.”

I turn.

Xavier is leaning against the doorway.

“How do you know?”

“You told me.”

“When?”

“Years ago.”

Naturally.

“You remember everything.”

“Almost.”

“That sounds exhausting.”

“It is.”

I smile, but something behind my ribs aches.

Ghost remembers my childhood.

Not because he researched it.

Because I told him.

Pieces of myself scattered through years of conversations that I never realized anyone might be keeping.

Not as data.

As memories.

Upstairs, the small bedroom at the back of the cottage has been prepared for me.

Fresh linens.

Wildflowers in an old ceramic pitcher.

And three dresses hanging from the wardrobe.

I stop.

Turn slowly toward Xavier.