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Macy can't help but hum along to the song she hears coming from the kitchen as she comes down the stairs in the morning.
"Was that the radio?" Macy asks, walking into the kitchen.
Harry shakes his head. "The radio isn't on."
"Who did I just hear singing then?" Macy leans against the island. "Wait, was that you?"
"It was," Harry says with a smile on his face, looking back at her from where he's cooking on the stove.
"I never knew you had such a good voice."
"It never came up before."
"And that song... was that an older song? I don't recall ever hearing it before now."
"I'm not sure what song it is," he admits. "It's been in my head since I woke up, but I don't recall ever hearing it."
"Oh, do you think it could be a memory that your subconscious remembered?"
"It's possible."
"Maybe this is a sign of more memories to begin returning to you," Macy muses, smiling as Harry turns off the stove and then turns fully towards her.
Harry pulls up a plate and places it in front of her, dumping the contents of the pan he's holding onto it. "That very well could be."
"Can you sing some more while I eat?"
"If that's what you want."
Macy nods as she grabs a fork and digs into the plate of food. "It is."