“What you are…?” I gasp when the words are spoken in this lifetime and not the one in whatever era I was just lost in. What I do know is that what I just experienced…was a memory, my memory, which took place in this very room.
However, I don’t know whether to be elated or burdened with grief because this memory was charged with sadness. Both children were the other’s savior. Who are they? But more importantly, why do I want to embrace them and tell them it’ll be all right? Tell them that…everything is always better after a thunderstorm.
“Peyton?” Cayden’s voice once again cuts through the disorder, and I’m transported back to the here and now.
This room gives me the strength I need. And I fight the confliction within. “You said you knew wh-who lived here.” He visibly holds his breath. “
