’ ‘You’re telling me you have no memory? Of anything?’ She shook her head, and Adrian frowned. ‘How do you know your name, then?’ ‘How d... you know yours?’ She brushed a stray hair from her face. ‘Some things are deeper than just memory. Some things are yours.’ Adrian sat down on the couch, on the opposite end of where she sat, and put his hands on his knees. He thought about the scars on his face, the woman he’d called his wife, and the stranger now at home in his head. ‘Some things are deeper. "What about you, Heather... ?" asked Thomas. "Would you want to join the table, as well? I could always join Henry and his friends..."Heather looked at Karen, embarrassed. "Thank you for your offer, Thomas, and no disrespect to any of you but ... I think I'd rather join Henry at his table." She smiled. "That way, you could stay with Karen ... But I'm still part of the revolt tomorrow. That hasn't changed."Thomas smiled his thanks; he, too, was embarrassed.At breakfast, at the dining hall,. More

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