Flashback ( PDFDrive )

“So, you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?” Keefe asked
as he guided her around a wide bend into a hall she actually
recognized—the beginning of the Level Three wing.
“I don’t know,” Sophie told him. “Are you going to tell me why
you’re trying so hard to act like everything’s normal?”
“What makes you think I’m acting?”
“Uh, the last time I saw you, you’d just found out that your mom
had some of your memories shattered. And then you ignored me the
next day—and then told me you were close to a breakthrough with
Tiergan. And now you show up the day after that, don’t mention it at
all, and you’re in this, like, Ultra Knight in Shining Armor mode—”
“Aw, you hear that, Ro? Foster thinks I’m her hero!”
“I think you’re pretending to be,” Sophie corrected, “so I won’t
notice the shadows under your eyes. Or these.”
She reached for his hand and pointed to the faint bruises on his
knuckles. “Been punching walls? Or people?”
“The floor, actually,” Keefe admitted after a few seconds.
Sophie stopped walking. “Okay, so what’d you learn that has you
punching the floor?”
He tilted back his head, staring at the mastodon banners hanging
from the amber glass ceiling, which looked mostly gray in the
moonlight. “I didn’t learn anything. That’s why I punched the floor.
Tiergan helped me find this tiny pocket of hidden memories, and I
thought—this is it! But . . . it was all random, useless fragments. A
sunset. A couple of trees. A bunch of black fabric. Empty glass vials.
Stuff like that. The only useful piece was a pair of green eyes. But
they’re so blurry we can’t even tell if they’re from a guy or a girl or a
kid or an adult.”