[Blake would say it's strange not to know your own husband's real name, but the guy might've not known himself, either. Amnesia is the least of the bullshit that's happened to people who come here.

It's a lot less than being dead.

Not kidding, then. Of course it couldn't be that easy.

All he can say is,] Jesus.

I'm...sorry?

[He scrubs his hand over his face.]

I'm shit at condolences. I always let my partner do that part.

[Even more surreal than the idea of talking to a dead person is the way she accepts it.

And with what she says, he feels a strange twinge in what, in somebody else, you'd call a heart.

He looks out over the foreign-looking buildings, and manages to say,] Guess we both got some luck after all.