"I remember most of it." He remembered all of it. But what was he supposed to do, point at the thing on her head and say he witnessed it go berserk? "It could have been. You might even bump into that person, sooner or later."

There was a beat, and Irvine reached over for his ponytail and raked his fingers across the strands. "About that dream . . . It was probably you." He stood straight. "No, it was you."