CLYVE

I HAD been staring at the white wall for God knew how long until I was interrupted.

“See anything fancy other than a white paint?” Startled, my head snapped to the voice from my right—it was Skip.

Funny why he kept his hair long. He looked like a bloody biker, but I could not say he didn’t look good because I was his younger version.

Now, I wondered how he found me here, but of course, he was my brother, and sometimes I thought he implanted a micro tracker in my body.

“Fancy seeing you, brother.” I hugged him and forced a smile.

“Good to see you, too. Aren’t...