It’s about eleven, and she’s already lying there, her gaze tilted toward the ceiling. Her body lies so still that except for the blinking and chaos I feel swirling within her, I’d wonder if she were even conscious. One arm lies snuggled under her blue-and-white comforter. The other rests atop, and every so often I see her fingers twitch. Part of me wonders if she can feel me in this room like I can feel her. I can’t explain the connection. It’s almost supernatural and something that almost seems like I’ve had with other angels. I’d like to say I’ve never experienced it with a human before, but since I don’t have my memory, that’s definitely making a leap of faith. I can’t begin to tell anyone what I’ve experience. I glance at the clock above Elizabeth’s bed and think, Well, that’s about to change. No more secrets about what my life has been like and what role Elizabeth has played in it. Elizabeth abruptly rises and flips on the small table lamp next to her bed.
