The person who stood in the center of the desolation was not still a child to be led by the hand, but not quite a man to walk with purpose on his own either. He looked around, seeming lost and confused.

Four children ran up to him.

"Hey, S.Q.!" Kate called. "Let's go. Mr. Benedict said you're staying with us for a while."

"I'm sorry..." The young man mumbled. "What? Who?"

"It's me. Kate Wetherall. Remember?"

"I'm sorry. I don't remember."

"Come on, S.Q., you have to remember us." Sticky was beginning to sound panicked. "You helped Reynie and I when we had Messenger duty. You were our friend, sort of."

Then words came tumbling out of S.Q.'s mouth, uncertain and unsteady. "I'm sorry, sir- Um, young man. I don't know what you're talking about."

He looked around. "Is there someone else you might be looking for?"

"No, we were looking for you, S.Q.," Said Reynie softly, "Do you really not remember us?"

"I'm sorry, I really don't know who you are. I'm feeling a bit bemuddled- I mean, confundered- I- I- I don't know what I mean..." He trailed off, eyes glassy.

"Constance?" Reynie prompted, turning to look at their younger friend. But she was staring at S.Q. in open horror.

"There's... There's nothing there." She whispered. "Nothing at all. I can't find anything, Reynie. It's like he's a blank slate."

“How could that be?” Kate said, letting out a laugh empty of any true conviction. “There’s got to be something. He’s standing here, isn’t he? He’s got to have a few thoughts in the old noggin. Right?”

“S.Q.?” Sticky said, voice quavering slightly. “What’s the last thing you remember? Do you remember coming here?”