While the room buzzed with concerned discussions, Yves wandered to a faraway realm that straddled consciousness and dreams.
Slowly, he surfaced from the depths of unconsciousness, his surroundings gradually coming into focus. It was as though he was being drawn back to the past, one sense at a time.
The soft rustle of leaves, the gentle caress of a breeze against his skin—it all felt oddly familiar.
As his senses fully awakened, Yves found himself standing in the midst of a vast, emerald-hued field. Recognition dawned upon him, the pieces of his fragmented memory slotting together like a puzzle.
This was the very field where he had first encountered Clyde's biological mother, Cynthia Miller.
Stepping gingerly along the well-trodden path, Yves was drawn by the gentle melody of a river's stream nearby.
Kneeling by the water's edge, he cupped his hands to drink from it, the coolness of the water soothing against his skin.
