Page 15 of Lost in the Fog

“Tomorrow is my goddaughter’s career day, and her mother is busy, so I am the other choice. I have to make a speech and deal with children.” She shrugged. “This was a last-minute assignment.”

She stared at him and realized something. “You aren’t right.”

He paused and then smiled. “You remember.”

“When they came to take me away, you changed.”

“I did.” His smile was slow.

She sighed. “Enough playing. I have places to be.”

“Your beta body isn’t an exact match.”

“No. I had to build it from memory. I look pretty damn good for someone who is over thirty.”

He looked at her and blinked. “How old were you at the Stronghold?”

“I turned twenty-two there. They snagged me before my birthday.”

He stared. “You looked like a teen.”

“Yeah, well, it is a good way to weed out creeps.”

“Do you still have that form?”

“Mostly. I didn’t have photos of myself until recently, as in earlier today. I can make my face match now.” She paused. “So, when you had the little me sitting on your knee...”

He sighed. “It’s complicated, but it was a suggestion so that I didn’t go mad.”

“Did it work?”

“Surprisingly, it did. Our third mentioned it.”

“We aren’t connected anymore. A friend of mine was rejected by her mates, and she got sick for a really long time. The way she describes things is how I feel, so my guess was that you had rejected me to cut the tie before I died.”

His eyes widened. “Never.”

“Well, whatever. I was living fog trapped in a room with a corpse who wasn’t getting any fresher. I needed my own logic to stay sane.”

He brushed her hair back again. “How did you get out?”

“The cave shook, and the wall cracked. I got out then. It took me a day to get myself out through the small hole, but I managed it.” She grimaced. “I really do have to go. Give me your phone.”

He paused. “Why?”

“So, I can give you my number and can get going. This wasn’t scheduled for like, ever.”

He reached with his free hand, pulled his phone out of a jacket pocket, and unlocked his phone for her. She went to contacts and put herself into his phone as Pandora with her public email and her phone number.

“There. That is how to get hold of me.”

He took the phone and sent her a text. “It didn’t send.”

“It did. My phone is in my car. Cells don’t like being made into fog. Trust me on that.”

He smiled. “So, you want me to trust that you will be in contact with me?”

“Walk me to my car, and I will show you the phone.”

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