"I don't remember anything," he says, a faint note of contempt in his voice. "They took it all away, just like all the other kids. Why do you remember if I don't?" Why is she special? It's a frightening and frustrating thought; it makes his jaw clench.

But her insistence and the words twist in his head and make him doubt his own. She's right, but he can't perceive it so easily in this delirious, false memory.

"Ex...silium..." He frowns darkly, struggling with the word. Do I know it?