It turned out to be one AM when we were attacked, so there was plenty of time for more sleep. Though it sounds a bit weird, we all went to sleep again. You'd think that I would be staying awake and contemplating Spirit's actions and all, but drowsiness won the deal. I soon found myself dreaming again...if it was a dream. It seems more like a memory.

I was very small. It was a sunny fall morning, and I was to go for my first day of first grade. My father was tying my shoes. He was dressed casually, with large sunglasses perched on his nose. We were by the door, in a cheerful suburban house. Toys were strewn on the carpeted floor. Skipping down the stairs came an even littler girl, with Minnie Mouse sunglasses, an orange jumper, silver hair, and gray fur.

"Where's Wyan going, Daddy?" she asked, still in baby-talk stage.

"He's going to school, Myra," he told her.

"This time all day," I added.

She pouted. "Can I go too?"

"No, dear," said our father. "You'll have to be separated for a while."

"But I'll miss him! Will he come back?" She ran to me and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Of course I will, kitten! A bus driver will bring me back to you, right, Daddy?" I carefully pulled her off.

Our father replied, "Yes. See, honey? It will be okay."

She was still worried. "But will you forget me?"

I laughed. "Don't be silly, kitten."

"Well, if fee ofer boys and girls are mean to you, fey have to deal wif me."

We laughed good-heartedly at this. "Bye, then, sis," I said, opening the door.

"You promise?" she pleaded.

"Yes! I promise to come back and not forget you!" And I left her and my father, standing at the doorway, waving goodbye.

I woke up. The sun streamed through the window frame, heating the room that couldn't be properly air-conditioned because of the broken glass. I looked at Spirit, sleeping peacefully. Then I realized what I had to do. I had promised, and I must not break that promise. When Dr. Ray came to check on me and put Spirit's sunglasses beside her, I asked her if she could get the Professor to come see me.

When he first wheeled over, I wasn't quite sure how to begin. "Do you know what happened in here last night, sir?" I asked him.

"Yes, I do. Does that influence your decision about my offer?"

I felt sheepish. "Well, I hope it's still open."

"It always is," he replied, in such a way that made me wonder how I had ever feared him.

Then I remarked, "I once read an article about a woman who lost her memory in a car accident, and she no longer loved her daughter, because she didn't remember loving her. Could this be what happened to me?"

"I do believe that remembering Spirit as your sister will help reconstruct a bond between you."

"Does it help if I've regained one memory?"

What do you mean?

I had a dream last night, I thought, and recalled what it had been. When I finished, he nodded.

Shock can help loosen the hold of amnesia. I am sure that I can do the rest. Professor Xavier's mind was warm and confident.

"What do you need me to do?" I whispered, remembering not to wake the two others.

He murmured, "Just relax, and stay lying down." Then he put one hand on either side of my head, not touching my ears. "You're certain that you want to remember?"

I stole another look at Spirit, then at the family photo. It was turned upside down, and I remembered that she had written on it. It said, I left you before. I won't again, ever. Even if I die.

Taking a breath, I said, "Yes, I am certain. I owe her."

Then I was back in the burning house, up on the second floor. An instinct in me screamed, no, no! I don't want to remember!

Yes you do, came the Professor's thoughts, giving me courage. We can travel back further. This was not the end, or the beginning.

Then it was as if I was watching a series of scenes, still from my own perspective, but me at many different ages. I suppose it was the same as when people say that they see their life "flash before their eyes". They passed by quickly, yet as they went, I felt more and more certain of who I was. The memories included birthday parties, blowing bubbles on the lawn, my father playing with me by hanging me upside down and me shrieking with delight, learning how to read, playing tag...there were hundreds of little details. And in all the memories was love and being loved. I remembered my father seeing in the dark and through walls, but being unafraid of this. Not being in the least bothered by mutants, for they included two people I loved best.

Above all, I remembered Myra, or as I called her, "Kitten", because I liked her soft fur, and because we had a gray cat that looked like her. I remembered fighting over toys and arguing, but throughout we loved each other, the way brothers and sisters do. I tried to make her eat bugs, and she told on me all the time. We played make-believe games where she would be a nurse or mommy, and I would be an alien or cowboy. No matter how much we fought, and even if I made her cry, Myra would always kiss me on the cheek and say "sorry" or "it's okay" (though she pronounced it "otay").

Sometimes it seems ridiculous to me that it took a full restoration of my memory to restore my affection for a girl who did so much for me. And I have no excuse. I needed a slap in the face to show me what a jerk I was and how much I owed her. In my defense, however, think about your own family. What if, one day, you woke up and couldn't remember them? Even if you came to believe that you had once loved them, would the old love be the same? You would have to start all over, and it would take a long time. If that memory was suddenly regained, the love would hit you again, and you would wonder how you were so blind. That was was this did to me. It was like seeing my sister through a screen of smoke that suddenly disappeared, showing all that I had forgotten and unconsciously missed.

When Professor Xavier broke the telepathic connection, I didn't say any of this. All I did was shake his hand, and very sincerely thank him. "Thank you, very much, sir."

He smiled. "I am sure that Spirit will be very happy to hear the news. If you will excuse me..."

"No problem, Professor. I know you're busy."

At first I was dazed at the sudden collapse of the wall that had bricked off my childhood memories. I wondered about my future, because my "old" ethics and ideas had been replaced by my "new" morals, even though these were older than the fears I had been taught. But I knew that now I could see clearly, without prejudice. And I knew who this girl beside me was, and how truly she cared about me. That was worth turning my world upside down. It had been turned upside down before, and this was just correcting the error.

I wondered how to best explain this to Myra. A phrase floated into my head, and I smiled. How appropriate, I thought.

It wasn't long until my sister opened her eyes. She then quickly closed them, and reached for her sunglasses and put them on. Then she turned her head to look at me. I whispered, "I'm staying, kitten."

Her mouth opened wide. In a single, smooth movement, she leaped out of the bed, threw her arms around my neck, and kissed me on the cheek. When she let go, I ruffled her hair with my unbroken arm. "I'll make it up to you, Myra. We have many years to catch up on. Oh, ow...be careful of the leg."

"Aww," said a voice. Techie had woken up, and was grinning at me.

"Twerp."

"Better than 'nerd'. I got tired of that one. Now where are my glasses?"

I laughed. "Seriously, Techie, you should've told me more about this sister of mine, before I had to go dredge up my childhood. By the way, Myra, why did you come here last night?" She grinned, and signed something to Techie. He told me, "She says that, since you were leaving, she wanted to spend as much time with you as possible."

"Oh," I answered. "Well, thanks for saving me." When she shook her head modestly I joked, "Hey, even if you deny it, you still did indirectly. I doubt Spy would have paid any attention if I was the only one in here. She would have considered it a good riddance."

Spy's boyfriend chuckled, signed something to Myra, and said, "You can call me Jim, too." Then the girl sitting next to me signed something else. Jim looked puzzled. "Who's Crystal?" he asked me.

"Why?" I asked, prepared to be defensive.

"Spirit says that Crystal forgives you."

Instead of answering, I squeezed Myra's hand and whispered, "Tell her I love her. And you."

Myra mouthed, "We know." But I'm not good at lip-reading, so it might have been, "We knew."

I never did get around to asking.