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that’s up to you.”
    Wheels clicked into motion in Gwynn’s brain. Images splashed across his mind’s eye in a rapid and painful succession. Pridament’s words gave him the most important cue. “Sophia.”
    “I’m sorry?”
    The memory of pain kept Gwynn still, but he wanted to leap from the bed and tear through the hospital searching for her. “Sophia Murray. She must’ve been the other person brought in with me. Is she okay? Can I see her?”
    Pridament held up his hands. “Whoa, slow down. First, I’m guessing she is fine. Everything I heard said you were the worse of the two. Second, and this is another reason I think she’s okay, no you can’t see her because she was discharged yesterday.”
    Gwynn drew a deep breath. He tried to quell the anxiety that made his legs jumpy. “You’re sure?”
    Pridament shook his head. “I wish I could tell you I was. Like I said, I just overheard things. Once I knew it was you, I let a few docs know. They’ve kept me in the loop. All I know for certain is that her injuries weren’t that severe and she left the hospital yesterday.”
    “Good.” Fatigue wrapped its soft fingers around him. “That’s good.”
    Pridament gently clasped Gwynn’s bandaged hand. A stranger whose touch should’ve been foreign and unwelcome. Instead, a feeling of calm emanated from it. The stirring in his soul eased.
    “I need to do something.” Pridament said, his voice soft, comforting, but tinged with a current of earnest concern. “It’s very important that I remove the bandages from your right arm and inspect it.”
    His arm. Despite Pridament’s voice and the calming touch of his hand, the mere mention of Gwynn’s arm flared his anxiety. Clouded memories hovered just out of reach, dark storm clouds threatening unknown terrors.
    “But…you said you weren’t my doctor. Why would you do that?”
    Pridament locked eyes with Gwynn. His touch and voice were calming, but his eyes showed fear. “I need to see your arm. If I’m right, if I see what I think is there, then I’m the only person who can help you. I won’t do it without your say–so.” Pridament’s grip on Gwynn’s hand tightened. “If I’m right, and you wait until your doctor takes those bandages off, you’ll need someone here who can explain what you’re seeing.”
    Gwynn’s stomach knotted. Every muscle tensed, sending waves of ache and stabbing pain. Anxiety didn’t describe it. No, fear had penetrated deep into his soul. Doubt and a sense that whatever lay beneath the bandages would change everything, fed that fear. But why should he feel that way? And this man, who claimed to know his parents. What proof did he have? Should he trust him?
    “You said you knew my parents?” What could he ask Pridament? What would a true friend of his parents know? “How did they meet?”
    Pridament gave a gentle laugh. “How did they meet, or how did they discover they were in love?”
    That answer kept Gwynn’s fear at bay. The confidence in Pridament’s tone, the knowledge that there was a difference between the two things. Yes, he did know the story. But Gwynn wanted to hear it. “How they met.”
    Pridament shook his head, his smile widening. “Now I have to wonder, what version have you heard? I can’t imagine you were told the whole story.”
    Gwynn gave a pained laugh. “Jaimie told me the uncensored version a few years ago.”
    “Fair enough. So your dad, he was at York University at the time. That’s where he and I met. Both of us drifting through a general BA ‘cause we had no idea what to do with our lives. We were at the Absinthe pub in the Winters residence. Place was dark wood, dingy, a hangout for arty types. We were only there the one time. I think maybe because everywhere else was too busy. Anyway, your dad, he’s had more than his fair share of beer. This girl walks into the bar—”
    “Mom.”
    “Hey kid, who’s telling the story? But, yes, your mom walks into the bar. She is