Your head throbs as you struggle to focus on the faces around you. The blonde boy steps closer, his ice-blue eyes filled with something—relief? Worry? It’s hard to tell when your mind feels like it’s swimming through fog.

“Foster?” he repeats, his voice softer now, like he’s afraid to startle you.

The name stirs something in your chest, but it feels distant, like an echo from a dream. You open your mouth, searching for words, for understanding, but nothing comes. The others are staring, waiting, their expressions ranging from concern to barely concealed panic.

“Who… who are you?” you manage to whisper, and the way their faces fall makes your stomach twist.