Malcolm Bright

It’s a blink-and-miss-it moment, really, the way Neal pauses at the threshold, hit by a wave of deja vu almost strong enough to be vertigo. His defenses are too high for it to be more than that pause, but it’s there.

He breathes in the smell of the place, the conversations, struck again by another thought that feels random and disconnected. He’s had pretty good luck so far, though.

“Earring,” he murmurs to Malcolm as the other man comes inside. “Something about an earring?”