Things You Don’t Know Benjamin and Luther were sitting in that rundown old house, talking about Sloane. There wasn’t any particular reason for it—maybe it was just something to fill the silence while waiting for the instant noodles to cook.

Benjamin mentioned that before he got locked up, he’d been looking for Sloane too. And he did find her—working at some circus. But she had no memory of the Sparrow Academy, of him, or of her own husband…

He hadn’t even finished the sentence when his brother-in-law suddenly grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall, yelling, demanding why he’d never said anything about this before.

“And what would’ve changed if I had” Benjamin glanced at the pot, where the noodles were threatening to boil over.
“I told you—she doesn’t remember anything about us.”
“You want to barge into her life, wreck whatever peace she’s found, force your feelings on her, and then compare her to another version of herself”
“I’m not going to let you turn her into another version of me.”

That shut Luther up. His grip loosened. Benjamin shrugged off his arm, smoothed the wrinkles out of his shirt, and went over to turn off the stove.

Luther just stood there, stunned, as if thinking something over. Then he looked at Benjamin with wide, pleading eyes as he stirred the noodles with his chopsticks.

“Even so, you should’ve told me… I could’ve at least watched her from afar”

“Sounds like a stalker,” Benjamin replied without turning around.

“We could start over” Luther gestured wildly with both arms. “She could fall in love with me again. And I—I’d fall in love with her again…”

“I told you already,” Benjamin said, his voice sharp with mockery, “She’s not the same Sloane we used to know. You know nothing about who she is now—so how could you claim to love her Who is it that you really love”

Luther opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words. He truly loved Sloane—loved her to his core. To suddenly learn that she was alive, only to be told she had no memory of their time together… that surge of joy and grief all at once overwhelmed him. He sank to the floor in tears.

“I don’t know… I just… I love her so much… I miss her…”

Benjamin said nothing. He didn’t know how to comfort him, and frankly didn’t want to try. Instead, he ladled another bowl of noodles and handed it to Luther. The man took it with red-rimmed eyes, sniffled, and after a pause, slurped some noodles down.

Benjamin watched him eat for a while, silent. Then finally, he spoke.

“You know… Sloane loved you too. I mean—my sister.”

He thought Luther might press for more. Ask what she’d said, or try to coax out some detail about the Sloane from this timeline. Something. Anything.

But instead, Luther just looked up, eyes and nose running, and smiled—a lopsided, goofy, but absolutely certain smile, with a noodle still dangling from his mouth.

“I know.”