Then she looked down at herself. Her hair was light brown- as if unable to decide between the amber of her mothers and the dark black of her fathers, ...nd scoops of it hung over her face as she glared down, gently touching the area of her jeans between her legs. ‘Holy shit, I’m dripping wet,’ she observed. This revelation caught me by surprise, even considering the outrageous activity I had observed (and partaken) earlier that evening. ‘They’ve tagged you,’ she said and lifted her eyes to. She sought strength but came up short."I led you on. I let you believe that it could be reversed in someone already Draughted. Even if I had found the right formula, it would work only on those that had not yet had the Draught." Wh-why not?" Amanda demanded. She forced herself to pause. Stop it. I'm not allowed to be a child anymore. When she spoke again, her voice was more calm but quavered no less. "Why not, Master?" The Draught erases memories, Amanda. They are gone. One cannot bring back. More

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