I just stand there, completely frozen, not knowing what the hell to say. My mouth might as well be glued shut, because my brain is fried and my heart is doing this weird stuttering thing in my chest. I'm just... staring at him. Like he's a ghost or a walking glitch in the system. Like he decided to casually show up and drop a freaking historical bombshell on my night.
Eighteen twenty-eight.
That's not just "a long time ago," Reece. That's not some "wow, you look young for your age" moment. That's another life. That's horses and telegrams and gas lamps and people thinking the moon landing was witchcraft. That's several lifetimes ago.
And yet he's standing there in jeans and a hoodie, looking like he could pass for a grad student with insomnia.
"How..." I start, but my voice cuts out hal
