“Were you scared?”

“No.”

She smiled in the darkness. “Are you ever scared, Silas?”

“Yeah,” he admitted softly. His other hand moved over hers, petting her skin.

“Was she a gray wolf?”

“Black,” he corrected. “Beautiful. She reminded me of you.” She felt warm at his words. “What did you do?”

“I just watched her.”

She tried to imagine it, face to face with such a wild animal. She’d seen her fair share of deer and coyotes, even a bobcat once, but never a wolf. “Aren’t you worried about her coming back and attacking us?”

“No. My father always said, anyone who’s afraid of the wolf shouldn’t live in the forest.” She frowned, something flashing into consciousness. It was brief, fleeting, a cross between deja vu and the sense that something was right at the tip of her tongue, if she could just remember…

“You’re safe here,” Silas assured her.

“I’ve never been safe anywhere.” The feeling was true even if there was no real memory to accompany it. She struggled with trying to remember anything about her life, even her own name. Again, it was that feeling, like it was all on the tip of her tongue, if only she could speak.

Silas had been patient, prompting her often, but she could tell he was worried. She was worried too, but the snow falling outside kept them from making a much-needed hospital visit.

She turned toward the big man sitting on the edge of her bed, wondering about him. He seemed to have as much of a missing history as she did. He was quiet to the point of being laconic, giving her lots of space and privacy, although she had caught him checking in on her a lot in the past day or two. And the mask thing was strange, but everything felt weird, off-kilter, and he hadn’t given her any real reason not to trust him, after all.