Lenny tilted his head slightly, confused as to what he was reading.
"I should stop trying to remember? What did I forget?"
Having experienced the memory alteration for the second time—counting the first time back at the abandoned asylum, going on the third time, Lenny remembered Mr. Stranger's words about how some knowledge in this world possessed a death price tag.
He knew this was something he wasn't allowed to know, at all. He wasn't a dimwit, nor was he too arrogant to fail to see where the bounds of his current status as an Irregular lay.
Looking about, just making sure that no one else was here to write it, and recognizing his handwriting, he was a hundred and one percent sure that he was the one who wrote the phrase on his arm.
