Chapter 61: Tom

• “Oh, my god,” I said, staring at the bow in horror. I recognized the arrow in the bow; it was grotesquely familiar, the arrow that had been haunting my life and my nightmares.
• He knelt down to examine the corpse of his victim. I dared to look too despite the ugly wound, grimacing. Even as a healer, I did not grow accustomed to the sight of blood. I stared at the man’s face in confusion, puzzled as to why I recognized his weapons but not his face.
• “I don’t know him,” I said in anger, “do you?”