I opened my eyes into the dark room.
Our hands were still locked together. The cool air of the room sat against my skin like something that had been waiting. No light. No edges. Only the pressure of her fingers and the sound of both of us breathing.
I'd come back out with a head full of the past and a glimpse of the future, and none of it was the thing sitting on my chest. The thing on my chest was a woman holding my hand who thought I'd known.
"Venna, I didn't."
It was the first thing out of me, like I'd carried the sentence back from the forest. The words left my mouth and sat in the dark between us.
"Bram." Her fingers moved in mine—small adjustments, the soft slide of skin against skin.
"I had a hint. That's all. I went into the past this morning while you were asleep on me. I don't know how I did it, I didn't choose it, and I didn't get a clear answer out of it. That's the only reason I asked how old you were."
