Ethan stared at Claire.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
The machines around her continued their quiet rhythm.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
But Ethan could hear nothing except the sentence she had just spoken.
He was the man who told me I would die if I ever talked about what happened.
“Claire.”
She squeezed his wrist.
“He found me.”
“Who?”
“I do not know his name.”
“You said you remember him.”
“I remember his face.”
“What did he look like?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Tall.”
“Dark hair.”
“A small scar here.”
She touched the side of her jaw.
“He had a scar?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“He wore a gray coat.”
Ethan's mind immediately returned to the photograph.
The man standing beside Claire outside the warehouse.
Gray coat.
Dark hair.
Scar near the jaw.
It was the same man.
“How long have you remembered him?”
Claire opened her eyes.
“Only since I woke up.”
“Why?”
“I do not know.”
She looked frightened.
“I was dreaming.”
“What kind of dream?”
“I was...