For a while after the panic attack had passed, neither of them spoke only the sound of their breathing filled the room.
Lorenzo sat on the floor with his back against the wall, while Xanthe remained beside him.
His breathing had finally steadied. The violent trembling had subsided too, though an occasional shiver still coursed through his body from time to time.
But what lingered stubbornly were the memories.
"I saw the memories again," he said quietly, finally breaking the silence.
Xanthe turned toward him. "Memories?"
He nodded. "Of my mother," he said, and then his gaze lowered to his hands. "I think."
"Do you think you can tell me about it?" she asked in a whisper.
Lorenzo let out a profound sigh. "I don't know. It's— it's always disconnected but I'm sure it's the last memory I have of her."
He swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists before he forced himself to continue.
