"You noticed how she looked at me," Arin said. "Didn't you?"
Alaric nodded. "I did."
"And you didn't like it."
"No," Alaric admitted flatly. "I didn't."
Arin stopped pacing and turned to him. "Neither did I."
That surprised Alaric. "Why?"
"Because," Arin said slowly, choosing his words, "she wasn't looking at me like she usually does."
Alaric's chest tightened.
"She was looking at me like I was a ghost," Arin continued. "Like something she'd seen before and couldn't place."
Alaric stood up abruptly. "Don't."
Arin held up a hand. "I'm not saying what you think I am."
"Then what are you saying?" Alaric demanded.
"I'm saying, that whatever that man did to her memories, it runs deep."
Alaric turned away, staring at the wall. "I don't care where it runs. He doesn't get to touch her mind anymore."
"I agree," Arin said. "Completely."
Alaric exhaled. "I won't lose her."
Arin met his gaze. "You won't."
There was no doubt in his voice.
