“You know me,” Bailey says, reaching out to grab you. “It’s me, Bailey. Your little brother.”

He searches your face for any sign of recognition. Nothing. You’re looking at him like a stranger and not the brother you raised. Bailey fights back tears.

“C’mon, please, please,” he whispers. “You can’t forget me.” You’re not smiling at him. You always smile at him, always tuck him into bed, always checked for monsters.