and the childhood belief brings a moment's relief

"Was she your sister or somethin'? No, you don't have the wings... Huh. Mythra with ears. How have I never thought of that?"

The voice eerily echoed his own, but unlike the other memories careening deliberately through his mind, it didn't belong to him. He'd never said anything like that. And what was a sister?

"Who are you?"

"I'm Milton. I'm dead. Aren't you?"

Joran frowned, but couldn't feel his face set.

"How come you didn't ask my name?"

"I already know it. Those are all yours, aren't they?"

They were. All...his.

"She's no one. No one at all."