The sound of his own voice, more than anything, was what stopped him in his tracks. His shoe scuffed loudly with that staggered, halted step, arms swinging with that stop and falling slack at his sides.

He stared, eyes yellow and wide. She looked different to a boy's eyes, but there were very striking things about a woman like Kate that nagged at his memory.

"You know my name," he said, just a shade above a whisper, awed.