"Someone needs to know," he says, lowering himself carefully into the chair. "In case any other . . . incidents occur."

He buries his face in his hands for several moments, drawing in long, steady breaths to steel himself before he starts to speak. "That damned locker, 327 -- I fell in. I am susceptible to fits of a certain kind, beyond my control, that come on me now and again. And it just so happens that one came over me near enough to locker 327 for me to become its victim."

Archie looks up at her, a distinctly haunted look in his eyes now. "They tell me I was gone for two weeks, but I was there for months, it seems. I saw my own life, and things I didn't consciously remember living, but I knew them. Memories that make me question everything I thought I knew about my life. And . . ." He swallows hard and looks away. "I saw how it ended."