Ian runs to me swiftly, holding me so tight that it is difficult to breathe.

“Are you all right?” he asks.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

“Nobody’s hurt you?”

“No. In fact, I think they’ve done this to protect me. At least it feels that way.”

Yet Ian laughs with irritation. “What have they said to you?”

“Nothing.”

The house remains warm even as the snow falls outside, and every so often the click of the heater can be heard. Just outside Ian’s window is a small pond with a bridge over the corner of it. I envision falling through one of the old wood slats along the path. Then again, I envision falling through to the water. It feels different . . . almost like memory. I squint my eyes to see clearly. The second step appears to be missing.

“This house is unbelievable,” Ian says as he grabs his coat from the chair next to the bed. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“The second step on that bridge is broken.” It is so vivid in my mind—taking a step and falling through the decayed oak—that I nervously scratch my head.

“So what?” Ian pulls the arm of my sweater. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere other than here. I don’t trust these guys.”

Arek and Kilon seem to be the least of my worries when I think of the old man Japha and Navin. Ian is ready to run, and knowing him, he has mapped out the worst exit route imaginable. It is quite possible that Arek and Kilon are less of a worry than Ian. Leaving with him is an option, yet it doesn’t seem right. If everything that has been said is true . . . who is Remy? I lift my arm that had once been paralyzed and feel nothing out of the ordinary, only strength. A genetic gift to live longer and heal quicker ran through my mind. The bridge outside sits under several layers of newly fallen snow, but again I study the second slat that is obviously missing.

“We have to go,” Ian says under the high pitch of his jacket zipper.

“No.”

The football coach in him suddenly appears and his nostrils flare. “What are you talking about? Willow, these people kidnapped us from our home.”

“My home.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean. We’re supposed to just do as they say?”

“Ian, you are welcome to leave. They’ve been nothing but kind.”

He throws his hands to his face and growls. “This is crazy. You’re acting crazy, Willow.”

“I’m not acting crazy, Ian. I just feel okay with them.” Talking him off the ledge is familiar.

“Ian, listen.” I walk to him with my hands out. Finally, he stops fidgeting when he sees my intention. “Several months ago, before the attack, I had a dream and I never told anyone about it. It had that bridge.” I pointed to the pond.

“It’s a pond, Willow.”

“Yes, I know. But I wrote in my journal that I just knew I wasn’t who I was supposed to be. That it felt like something was going to happen. And now . . . here we are. I didn’t remember any of this until now.” Ian’s face is flushed. “I know you. You must be hungry. Let’s figure this out after we eat dinner and if they can’t prove anything to us we’ll go. Okay?”

“They’re going to have to prove a lot.”

“I agree.” He drops his forehead and places it on mine. “Come on.”

It isn’t easy pulling a man of Ian’s size down the hall, but it is the only choice. If he had his way, getting lost within the alpine woods would be more appealing than accepting Arek’s hospitality. Food is the only worthy bribe in this situation.

The dining room just off the kitchen has every element of straight lines and masculine hardware that would be expected in Arek’s home. The appliances are shiny stainless steel, and large, heavy black pans hang from a silver pot rack above the large island with a white marble counter.

Just behind the island, Sassi is dressed in an apron with a bit of powder on her hands as she leans in and smiles lovingly at Kilon, who stands close. He kisses her just before he notices us then jumps to attention when we appear.

“Good afternoon,” Kilon nods. Kilon points to the table with a strong arm. “Please take a seat. Sassi has made quite a dinner for everyone.”

“Will others be coming?” I ask.

“Yes. It’s important for everyone to be here. It won’t be long.”

“Rem— I mean Willow . . .” Sassi’s deep voice fills the room. “How did you sleep?”

“Good. Better than expected. Thank you.”

“That’s completely understandable after what you’ve gone through. Do you both have headaches as well?”

“Yes,” I say.

“That should go away soon. It will surprise you how quickly you will be ready to go back to sleep,” Sassi smiles. “Well, please remember to ask for anything that you may need.”

“I will.”

Ian pushes me to the table out of hunger, especially when Kilon sets out biscuits. Two chairs at the end of the table are already pulled out almost as a suggestion, and we accept the invitation, even though the idea of food makes me ill. It might be nerves.

From somewhere deep within the house, many voices begin to fill the halls. They arrive behind us and steadily walk through the kitchen toward the dinner table. Arek is at the helm, followed by the boy from the trolley, their cheeks and noses pink from cold. Behind both are the blonde woman and her boyfriend from BART and Elizabeth. My nerves take root a bit more.

In the corner of the kitchen, Arek speaks quietly with Kilon for just a moment. The room is close to silent. After several minutes, everyone takes their seats around the large table. I try to keep my eyes down since everyone stares. In a strange situation, only Ian touches the waiting food.

“Everyone had better eat this dinner. I’ve worked hard,” Sassi warns.

“Sorry, Sassi. It just seems strange,” the boy from the trolley says.

He has intense green eyes like Arek. In fact, after a few minutes of watching him, it is apparent that they look alike. The kid won’t look me in the eye but sits silent with a furrowed brow. Arek reaches over and places a hand on the top of his head with obvious affection.

“I thought she was back,” the boy whispers. Immediately people fidget in their seats.

“What do you mean?” I ask, yet no one answers. “Clearly he’s talking about me. You’ve been at the store for the last month.”

The kid nods.

“This is Peter.” Arek sits back in his chair and hits the kid with his elbow. “My dad’s youngest . . . my half brother.”

With a full mouth Ian interrupts, “Who’s gonna take the time to tell us what we want to know?”