Then again, my memory was something measured in days rather than months and years like it should have been. What did I really know when it came to 'normal'? Ever since I'd lost my memory, I'd felt out of place, like I didn't really belong with Isaac and the others. The feeling had gotten worse as time had gone on, rather than wearing away like everyone had been telling me it would. It was starting to make me worried. It finally got bad enough that I decided to brave Alec's presence to ask if I could go into town. I found him in his studio, surrounded by empty canvases, a brush in his hand, apparently unable to bring himself to start on his next painting. He looked up as I walked into the studio, and he even mustered a smile, but it left me feeling like the effort had cost him more than it should have. It was like it had pulled on a wound that wasn't healing quite right, one that had started bleeding again just because I'd been selfish enough to pierce his sanctuary. He didn't say anything, so I cleared my throat, gave him a second or two to tell me to get lost, and then launched into my petition.
