He stared blankly a moment, searching for it. When it wasn't father, in his voice, it was...

"Peter." In others' voices. Uncles and Grandfather. Peter. Martin nodded vaguely. "Peter...and Anya. My mother." Though there was much less of her in his mind than the other. "And Regina." And so much more of her than either of them.

"You saw her. My sister." A shade of her, anyway. But it had been as real as the present moment for Martin.