Fretting, restless hands going through his hair again and again, Aidan cannot sit still. Not after the day he’s had.

“So, clearly not a figment of your grieving imagination, then,” Aures hits home.

“Clearly.”

She sighs. “But where on earth has he been? It’s been six years. How did he even know to find us here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine…” Aidan returns her sigh in kind.

“…And you didn’t think ...