“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
I put the package down.
“Noah.”
“I woke up.”
“You were awake when I left.”
“I fell asleep.”
His hand clenched in the blanket.
“And you were gone.”
“I was downstairs.”
“I know now.”
I crossed the room but stopped several feet away.
“What did you think?”
“I didn’t know.”
His breathing quickened.
“The room looked familiar, but I couldn’t understand why. Marlowe wasn’t here. The light had changed.”
“I left a note on the table.”
“I didn’t see it.”
“I should have reminded you before I went.”
“You did.”
His voice broke.
“You told me, and I forgot.”
The fear in his face was not anger at me.
It was terror of his own mind.
“I lost twenty minutes.”
“You fell asleep after I left.”
“But you told me.”
“Your brain didn’t hold on to it.”
“That is the entire problem.”
I sat on the low stool in front of him.
