The first thing Kavan remembers is pain.
Then voices.
Then the rhythmic beeping beside his hospital bed.
His eyes slowly open.
His mother is crying.
His best friend, Orren, looks like he hasn’t slept in days.
And you’re standing beside his bed.
You’re holding his hand.
He stares at your intertwined fingers before slowly looking up at you.
Something strange pulls beneath his ribs.
Familiar.
Warm.
Gone before he can understand it.
His fingers instinctively tighten around yours.
Then his brow furrows.
“Who are you?”
Silence.
Orren’s expression changes immediately.
He looks between them.
“What?”
His mother whispers his name.
“Kavan…”
His irritation grows.
“Why is everyone looking at me like that?”
Orren steps closer to the bed.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Kavan closes his eyes, trying to think through the pounding in his skull.
“Training for the Verrick fight.”
Orren goes completely still.
He notices.
“What?”
“Kavan, that was almost two years ago.”
His eyes snap open.
“No.”
“It was.”
Kavan looks back toward you.
And suddenly the way you’re holding his hand feels much more significant.
“Who is she?”
He slowly pulls his fingers from yours.