“I’m sure if we brought Farrow in here, he’d say something about getting your memories back. It might not take that long.” Mild. Moderate. Severe. “Yeah, I think he already told me something like that.” I calm down, but I blush a little at how he’s looking me over, as though he wants to scoop me up and carry me off to a place that’ll never harm me. Has anyone ever looked at me like that? Someone who’s not related to me? In the past few years, maybe they did. Maybe he’s not the only one. I wouldn’t know, would I?
