"The records say we don't exist," he said softly. "But I feel the weight of every year I spent loving you. If the world is a lie, then that’s the only truth I’m keeping."
The air in the room grew heavy. This was the eleventh day since they’d gone off the grid—the day the "ghost memories" began to fray at the edges. [S1E11] Were We Ever?
"The logs say we were stationed in New Berlin for three years," Sarah whispered, her thumb tracing the edge of her glass. "I can see the rain on the skylights. I can taste the synthetic coffee from the corner kiosk. I remember the way you looked at me when the first shuttle launched." "The records say we don't exist," he said softly
Outside, the city lights flickered, a momentary stutter in the grid that looked suspiciously like a reboot. They held on tighter, two ghosts waiting for the sun to rise—or for the screen to go black. This was the eleventh day since they’d gone