His nightmares stalked him, images of his past haunting him—Jessa and Lincoln and the babe he’d left behind, his namesake. His nephew. Thoughts of Hannah slipped in and out of memories of Jessa. He saw them both—Jessa’s warm brown skin and generous smile, Hannah’s delicate freckled face and those green eyes shining like gemstones, beckoning to him, whispering an answer he desperately needed, but no longer remembered the question to. Sometimes, he no longer knew what was past or present. Where he was or why. Who he’d been chasing, who he needed to get back to.
