CHAPTER 24OPIATE OF THE MASSES
NAOMI
“Hey, she’s awake.”
‘Awake’ was a relative term. I’d been awake, more or less, for some time, too busy sorting out competing sets of memories to do anything more complicated than breathe.
It was profoundly strange, seeing myself through Damon’s eyes. Remembering the same events from such different, sometimes contradictory, angles was enough to set my head spinning. Also, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t that pretty.
I remembered childhood as Gabriel. I was right, he’d been an adorable kid. I remembered Westley’s death, only hours ago—minutes ago, from where the memories left off—and gasped at the raw, searing pain of it.
I remembered Claire.
Everything was tumbled about, out of order, but there was no doubt which memories were mine and which Damon
