Her face is blacked out, but she feels…familiar. And it’s wrong…so very wrong.
Gasping for air, I almost launch off the bed as I rub over my chest, wincing in pain.
What did I…what did he do?
“It’s okay, Dutch! Calm down. You’re safe.” Dr. Norton’s composed voice is my anchor and I focus on it, afraid I will float away if I don’t.
“What’s happening to me?”
My heart rate soon settles, and the visions subside, allowing the present in. Once I can breathe again, I open my eyes.
I can see it—there’s a reason for this, and Dr. Norton knows what it is.
“There have been some reports, which are very, very rare, but it’s something called the theory of cellular memories.”
When I look at her like she’s just spoken to me in another language, she takes a seat near me.
“For decades, it’s been re
