Memories were surfacing of a slightly different version of Adam, a younger one, a less polished one. Images, bright as sweetmetals, came to him. Aglionby Academy, an unloved trailer, a bare apartment, an abandoned Virginia warehouse, the slanting, long fields of the Barns. Midnight drives, anxious journeys into pitch-black caves, charged glances over school desks, knuckles pressed against mouths, tight hugs goodbye.
