Mitch wanted John to stop—it hurt too much to remember—but Morwenna insisted he go on.
“I heard this faint voice. It kept repeating, ‘I love you, Jack Humbolt. I’ll always love you.’”
Mitch had heard enough. “No more, please.” He put his hands over his ears.
“It’s okay, Mitch.” John was rubbing his shoulders. “There’s no more to tell. You now know everything I know.”
Mitch slumped against John, the man’s arms working their way around his chest.
“Amazing,” Morwenna eventually said. “Compelling. Fascinating, truly fascinating.”
Mitch started to shiver.
“Have you got a blanket?” John asked Morwenna.
“Of course.” She got up and left the room.
“Ben?” Mitch turned watery eyes to John, who shook his head.
“No, love, I’m not Ben.”
“Well, actually, you are,” Morwenna said, coming back with a large afghan which she spread over the two of them.
“How’d you mean?” John asked.