The woman who had spoken before moved closer, pulling out a chair across from him. Her movements were slow, deliberate, as if not wanting to startle him. "Jude," she said softly. "We know this is overwhelming. But you're not alone in this."
Jude scoffed, though there was no real humor in it. "I feel pretty damn alone right now."
The man at the head of the table leaned forward, folding his hands together. "You're not. You've just been made to believe you are."
Jude's fingers tightened around the edges of the photograph. "What does that even mean?"
The woman exhaled, glancing briefly at the others before returning her gaze to him. "It means that everything you know, everything you remember—might not be as real as you think it is."
