"I remembered my sister," he said slowly. "Not her name. But her face. The way she laughed." His hands twisted in his lap. "It was the first time I remembered someone from before without it hurting."
Neal nodded encouragingly. "That's wonderful progress, Gray. The fact that you can hold a positive memory without—"
Movement.
RJ's breathing changed. I saw it before I heard it—the sudden expansion of his chest, the way his shoulders climbed toward his ears. His hands went white-knuckled on his knees.
The staff didn't notice. They were focused on Gray, on Neal's response, on the supposed breakthrough happening in front of them.
Stone noticed.
His whole body went still. Alert. His eyes locked onto RJ with the focus of a predator tracking prey—except this wasn't predatory. This was recognition.
"—and memories like that are often the first sign that memory integration is occurring naturally," Neal continued. "The brain is finding ways to—"
RJ stood.
The movement was abrupt. Violent. His chair scraped back with a screech that cut through Neal's words. Everyone turned.
"RJ." Neal's voice stayed calm. Professional. "You're safe here. Why don't you sit back down and—"
RJ grabbed the chair and hurled it.
It crashed into the wall, missing Gray by inches. Gray flinched back, eyes going wide. Ben made a sound—high and frightened—and scrambled away from the circle.
RJ was moving now. Not randomly—toward Gray. Toward the wolf who'd just talked about memories coming back, about pain easing, about things getting better.
The staff reacted.
"RJ, stop. You need to stop right now."
"Everyone stay calm. Give him space."
"RJ, listen to my voice. You're at the Healing Center. You're safe."
None of it landed.
RJ kept moving, his eyes fixed on Gray, his breathing ragged and harsh. Gold flickered at the edges of his irises. The wolf was rising, pushing toward the surface, and the man underneath was losing the fight.
"RJ—"
Stone stepped into his path.
No drama. No sudden movements. He just rose from his chair and positioned himself between RJ and Gray, his body relaxed but solid. A wall that had chosen to be there.
RJ stopped.
"I know," Stone said quietly.
His voice was low. Steady. Not the sharp commands the staff had been using—something else entirely. Something that came from a place of understanding rather than authority.
"I know exactly where you are right now."
RJ's chest heaved. His hands had curled into claws at his sides, the shift threatening to break through. He was staring at Stone with wild eyes, but he wasn't moving forward anymore.
"The memories coming back," Stone continued. "Someone else getting better while you're still drowning. Feels like a betrayal, doesn't it? Like they're leaving you behind."
A sound escaped RJ. Not a word—something more animal than that. A whine of pain that had no language.
