The room lit up, and for a second I couldn’t figure out where the light was coming from or why I was standing or why someone was holding my arms and calling me Olivia. That wasn’t my name. My name was—

I looked up, blinking, into Gabriel’s face, felt his iron grip on my forearms. When he saw me focusing, he exhaled and slapped a hand to my forehead.

“You aren’t even warm,” he said, frowning—my visions usually came with fever.

No, I’m not warm. I’m cold. I’m very, very—

“It wasn’t a vision,” I said. “It was…”

I looked up at him and mentally tumbled back to that place. I started to shiver, and then I glanced aside, sharply. That was what gave it away, and he let go of my arm so fast I staggered.

“Memories,” he said. “You were seeing what I…”

“I wasn’t trying. I would never—”

“Yes, of course. I know that.” His voice snapped with impatience. Then he cleared his throat and straightened. “We should have spoken to the Elders after you accessed memories with the lamiae. We’ll do that later today.”

He took out his phone and tapped in a note. Just add it to the list. Nothing personal here. And if I thought his fingers trembled slightly as he typed, clearly I was distraught and a little wobbly myself.

I swallowed and struggled to reorient, to slough off what it had felt like, being in that tiny space, alone and cold and trying so hard to—

Another hard swallow.

“It’s physical contact,” I said, working for the same matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve only had those episodes when I’m touching someone. I don’t know what triggers it.”

“You access a memory they’re accessing,” Gabriel said. “At that moment of contact.”

“How long did Seanna leave you—?” I started without thinking and stopped short. “Okay, so let’s mark that down and—”