“Do you ever get déjà vu?” asks Cillian, leaning a little closer to me. His voice is quiet enough that only I can hear him, but it’s as clear as a bell. As if we’ve sliced the air around us and created a place for us. I nod, my eyes latched on to his, an irrepressible smile at my lips. “I do.” “Me too,” he says. “I’m having it now.” “So am I.”
