I don't remember anything. The crazy thing is, I don't care. I came to myself six months ago on an island, and I've been relaxing ever since. This is a good life. One I am certain I wanted. My only purpose is to take care of this island, and the little girl who came with me. Nothing else matters. We're cut off from the rest of the world. I don't think anyone else knows we're here. A part of me says I need to keep it that way. Another part says...