Wendy
I could even stop staring. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the rusted iron cleat beneath my trembling fingers.
It wasn't a clear memory. There were no pictures in my mind, no distinct voices or specific events playing out behind my eyes.
It was purely physical. It was the ache of a hundred different afternoons spent standing in this exact spot.
I knew that the sun always hit the water at this specific, blinding angle right before dusk. I knew the way the old wooden planks creaked when the tide rolled in.
A sharp throb pulsed at my right temple, right beneath my bandage.
I squeezed my eyes shut, taking a shallow breath.
"You do remember.” Logan said.
His voice was no longer the cautious, polite tone he had used at the café. It was deeper now.
I slowly opened my eyes and t
