Every step away from the pile of ruin was a step away from remembering the night of the Rain. At least, that was what Sam managed to convince herself. She was a big believer in mind over matter. Maybe the social sciences were complete hokum, but there was a lot to be said for pure self-delusion.

She focused, instead, on the way the guy's heel rose and fell in front of her, with every step. She watched motes of dust swirl beneath his feet, scattered and crushed, but never destroyed, with every step.

Her attention grew so narrow that she was startled by his question. Twice, actually. First by the words themselves. Second by their candor.

The corner of her lip twitched. "I'm not sure we're supposed to be doing great here," she said.