|"'What's the last thing you remember?' she
asks. Her twitching fingers pleat the crisp white sheet beside
my inert arm.
I have to stop examining the familiar planes of her face,
noting all the subtle little changes, to search my fragmented
memory. 'I remember...'
...The warmth of her necklace coming to rest on my suddenly
chilled skin as she stepped back. Her fingers briefly grasping,
then releasing my index finger as the door to Skinner's office
opened and the others poured out...
'...We didn't have a chance to kiss goodbye.'"