Chapter Fifty-Patch

The shade of white on Delaney's face grew more pale by the second. Something traveled over her features, and realization settled there. She didn't even budge when the mug shattered to pieces at her feet.

"What do you mean?" Patch asked after everyone became quiet. "You remember the mug? Couldn't it have come from your house--,"

She shook her head. "No. I vividly remember the mug and the cabin," she said, leaning against the island, she palmed her head in confusion. "I was around eight or so. We'd gone somewhere, and after dinner I was so sleepy, I fell asleep in the backseat. Dad must have thought I was out of it, and left me in the car while it was running," she whispered, her gaze traveling some place far off. "I stumbled out of the car, and into the cabin. I'd never been there before, it was old, and smelled like grandma's house. I remember feeling thirsty, so I poured myself a glass of water with a mug from the cabinet. I grabbed that mug," she said softly. "I yelled for Dad, an