By the word accident, Ess could barely hear D-dee's voice. His vision slowly faded into darkness, but images kept creeping before him, like a slideshow filtered by a mirage.
He had not been lying when he said that he remembered everything about the incident in Saint Camillo. It lived rent-free in his head, popping up every other day even if he didn't prompt it. Before D-dee mentioned it today, it had cropped up in his mind before he and the others left the Arid Chunk.
He remembered how much more sullen he was back then, at the age of ten.
Father had told him one day, from the blue, that they would be flying to Agavon. As he often did when they were alone, he leaked tidbits about himself that Ess guessed weren't public knowledge, just for the sake of it.
