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from in order to keep focused on where she was going.
    “They were all siblings.”
    His words didn’t make a lot of sense. “Who were?” Did he mean the family she had coming to her studio in the morning? There were two siblings, a boy and a girl.
    “The group of school children who were in the building. The ones I pulled out. They were all siblings. I didn’t know until after.”
    This was the first time he’d voluntarily brought the subject up to her. She raised her head to study his strong profile in the dark. Her eyes weren’t completely adjusted yet, but she could make out his strong chin, long nose, and high cheekbones. A silhouette she had studied for years as he slept.
    “You really did an incredible thing. They all survived, right?”
    “Yes.” He yawned. “A bunch of them needed some reconstructive surgery but they all lived to grow up. The insurgents were aiming for us. They missed. I certainly couldn’t leave those kids to die.” He sounded almost defensive, and she had no idea why. “I’m not a coward.”
    “No. You’re not. No one would ever accuse you of cowardice.” She laid her head down again, and he stroked the back of her neck through the bottom of her hairline. “But not everyone can run into a fire and then perform miracles on a makeshift operating table.”
    “My mom really told you about it. I don’t even know how she even got all those details. She’s a one-woman spy unit.”
    Not at the moment, she wasn’t, but Stacey wasn’t going to mention it. He yawned again.
    “I have no idea why I brought it up.”
    She didn’t, either, but this new Aidan made her wonder about some things she’d not paid any attention to years earlier. Why on earth would he ever even think to use the word coward?
    “Maybe you really want to pose for my picture and you’re going out of your way to remind me how, in addition to being seriously hot, you are so amazing you deserve your own photo in the project.”
    “No.” One word, ending all discussion on the subject.
    “Thought I’d check.”
    She looked at him. His eyes were closed. He’d either conked out fast or pretended to sleep to keep her from pestering him. Stacey smiled. Whatever the case, it felt good having him in her bed.
     
    ***
     
    Aidan dropped Stacey off at the school. She had volleyball practice. No, he shook his head, he hadn’t done that in years. He was grown up. So was she. Then what the hell was going on? He looked left and right. Things looked like they had when he’d gone to high school. Nirvana blasted on his radio and as he sped down St. Charles Avenue toward his house, he passed the chicken place he and his friends had frequented back in those days. It had closed some time later, or moved, or something, because it wasn’t there now. He’d looked.
    “Shit, I must be dreaming.”
    He banged on the steering wheel of his Mustang. It had been a great car, and he had no idea what his parents had done with it after he’d taken off.
    “If this is a dream, I’d really like to wake up.”
    Only the automobile kept going. Apparently, his psyche had decided to he needed to go through this and wasn’t going to give him any choice. He pulled up in front of his house and parked in the driveway.
    After he got out, he locked the door behind him. Swinging his backpack behind him, he whistled while he made his way toward the house. What had he been thinking about back then? Probably Stacey. Maybe she had let him touch her breasts. If he was seventeen, and he thought he was because of the shoes on his feet, it would be another year before she’d officially let him in her pants.
    “This isn’t really a dream.” He spoke like he could wake himself up by doing so. “It’s more like a memory.”
    Unlocking the door to the house, he entered, then threw his backpack down on the floor.
    “Do you think we’re your fucking servants?”
    Aidan stiffened, both in real life and in his memory-dream. His father’s voice would