He's awake sooner than I expected him to be, forcing me to hurriedly brush my face using the cover of being tired. It feels like we could be back in the Seam, except I'm living a memory where the only thing that's changed is me. I force myself to take a breath before speaking.

"Hello, Gale," I tell him, sounding thin and weary and overly polite. He'll know something's wrong immediately and it seems cruel to add that on to a list of his injuries, but I can't pretend otherwise. I've always been good at hiding my emotions, but never around Gale.

He always could see right through me, as frustrating as it was.