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Summary
“In our past life,” Thada began, the words dragged out of him. “Did you reject me? Why couldn’t we be together?”
Armin turned towards him. “In my past life, I went through so much to become an actor.” A frown formed between his brows. “I was lucky to have TD, though I never got to meet him. Not even on the day I died.”
Thada felt for breath that was not there.
Armin’s body, still warm, in his frozen arms. Armin’s blood on his lips. Armin’s skin ripped apart by the crystal shards of a smashed trophy.
“Please,” said Thada, instead of screaming. “Don’t talk about dying anymore, okay?”
Or: Thada remembers.