Free Limbo (The Last Humans Book 2) by Anna Zaires, Dima Zales Page A

say I’d be going back to the festivities? I confessed to enough wrongdoings to be in Quietude for a long time. Why would they let that slide?
    These thoughts bring me back to a deeper mystery: Why did I answer those questions without wanting to? And what was the purpose of those questions?
    On a whim, as I circle the room, I make a door-opening gesture. I’m certain the Guard locked the door behind her, but it’s not like I have anything else to do.
    To my shock, the door opens.
    I step across the threshold, but the strangest thing happens.
    Part of me—at least I think that’s what it is—says in a voice that’s not my own, “Don’t leave, Theo.”
    This voice in my head is extremely weird for several reasons, not the least of which is that it sounds feminine.
    “Sit on the couch,” the voice says. “You might feel disoriented as I restore your memory.”
    I have no idea who the voice belongs to or what it’s trying to tell me, but sitting sounds like the best idea I’ve had in a long time. I walk over to a couch and sit down.
    Out of the corner of my eye, I see the door close.
    A strange avalanche of sensations floods my head. I feel a horrible sense of vertigo and a sudden need to lie down.
    As soon as my head touches the cushion, drowsiness overwhelms me.
    I close my eyes, and my awareness goes away.

9
    I open my eyes .
    Did I just wake up?
    Looking around the room, I find it too large to be the one Liam and I share.
    Then it hits me: this is the Administrative building.
    I remember what happened.
    I remember everything that happened.
    I also realize I’m no longer alone in the room.
    A familiar pixie-haired woman is sitting next to me on the couch.
    “Phoe,” I exclaim, sitting up. “I’m back.”
    “Don’t talk out loud,” she says and gives me a worried smile.
    I examine my memories.
    As far as I can tell, they’re all back. Then again, I didn’t think I was missing any information a minute ago, when I was missing everything.
    I recall Phoe and everything that happened from the very first day she spoke to me. I remember Mason from when we were little kids to his demise. I also recall, in detail, what it felt like to not remember these things. It’s like that ‘on the tip of your tongue’ sensation. After you do recall the trivial detail that eluded your brain, you can’t believe you blanked on something so basic. Except in my case, this happened with hordes of important facts.
    I also realize how much easier my life was when I didn’t remember these things. How much happier I was in my ignorance.
    Phoe’s fears about my split identity weren’t exactly valid. Yes, a more innocent Theo existed for a time, but he isn’t dead. He’s part of me, the Theo who’s more complete but wishes he wasn’t. I internalize everything he experienced the way I imagine drunk ancients internalized all the crazy things they did while intoxicated.
    “This really isn’t a good time to philosophize about the question of identity,” Phoe says in an urgent whisper and moves closer to me. “We need to talk, right after I do this.”
    Before I understand what’s happening, her lips are on mine.
    I return the kiss. Somehow, the physical closeness clears the remaining grogginess from my mind. I remember doing this with her, the day before yesterday. Only it feels different right now. More primal.
    The kiss continues, and she moves closer to me on the couch. She’s so close that her soft chest brushes against my upper arm.
    I feel a stirring.
    It’s familiar.
    It’s what happened yesterday when I was watching Grace, only this sensation is many times stronger.
    Phoe pulls away, her eyes narrowed into slits.
    “I still can’t believe that happened.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest. “I can’t believe you were lusting after Grace.”
    “Phoe,” I think and stare into her eyes. “Are you actually jealous? You know I didn’t remember—”
    “Bah.” Her lips twist. “Why should I be?