Laid out on the floor in front of Lincoln was a set of flashcards. On the front of each one was a picture of one of his sisters, and on the back was their name. The white-haired boy studied diligently and with purpose. He hated not knowing who his family was.

The entire memory loss incident, in fact, has been tough on Lincoln. Just in the past couple of days, he had seen fights been sparked because of it. He knew he wasn't directly responsible, but if it weren't for him and his condition, Ronnie Anne and Lynn wouldn't have slugged it out.

He looked at the next flash card. The sister wore a purple skirt and a purple shirt with a skull on it. Her hair was short and brown, and her boots were tall.

Uhhh… Luan?

Unsure, Lincoln flipped the card over, revealing the true name: LUNA.

He gritted his teeth in rage. Hours of practicing had gone by, and he still wasn't sure of the names of his own family members. Sure, he had only flipped two letters around, and he was getting closer to learning all of the names correctly, but what did it matter? His siblings might as well be strangers.

He didn't know it, but he had begun to sob lightly, pulling his legs to his stomach and squeezing them tight.

A knock on the door arrested his attention. "C-Come in."

One of his sisters came in and shut the door behind her. She knelt down next to Lincoln, and as hard as he tried to remember, he couldn't recall her name. This only made him cry harder.

"What's wrong?" she asked sweetly, putting her hand on Lincoln's back.

"T-This whole thing, is… it's just a mess. I hate it. I hate not remembering anything."

His sister frowned. "Yeah, it's pretty tough… I don't think anyone around here is enjoying it." She paused. "You're… you're not blaming yourself, are you?"

Lincoln was silent.

"You are, aren't you?" She sighed. "Lincoln, you're being too hard on yourself. You—" She spotted the flashcards. Lincoln's sister picked one up, turning it around in her hands, studying it, genuinely impressed. "Wow, what are these?"

"Flashcards."

"You're trying really hard," she continued, coming closer to Lincoln. He felt a bit weird having a stranger in his mind come so close to him, but, reminding himself who she really was, Lincoln allowed himself to enjoy the warmth, love, and compassion she offered.

"Seriously, don't beat yourself up over this. It won't solve anything." Her voice suddenly grew more serious. "Lincoln… I love you."

"I…" He smiled. "I love you too."

He wanted to address her by name, but he didn't know her name. Before his sister's little pep talk, this fact would have angered him. Now, though, Lincoln only scooted closer, returned the hug, and remembered her advice: It's not your fault.

"Who's fault is it?"

This is the question that Lynn posed to her friend, Amber Highwater. Sitting on the bed, on her phone (a regular Lori, huh?), the Loud family athlete had called up her friend to vent. It was morning, right before she had to go to school. Lynn's breakfast sat on her nightstand; she couldn't stand to eat in front of her family. Not for a while.

For the past twenty minutes, Lynn had been telling her about her incident with Lincoln. She considered herself tough, but it really hurt Lynn to relive the day she tackled him to the ground, making his head hit against a rock.

"I… I can't say for sure. But it's not your fault, Lynn."

"What do you mean it's not my fault? I tackled him!"

"Yeah, but did you know he'd get hurt?"

"Uh, no. Obviously not. If I did, he wouldn't be studying sister flashcards right now."

The last four words were hard for Lynn to get out. When she had peeked through the crack in Lincoln's door, and saw him studying flashcards with the Loud siblings on them, her heart broke. Even without his memories, Lincoln was still the kind, compassionate, and caring brother she knew. She wanted nothing more than to go in his room and give him a big hug, cry into his shirt, and apologize… not just for making him lose his memory, but for not being the sister he deserved.

But, no. She couldn't do it. One, if Lincoln saw her again after she had beaten the living daylights out of Ronnie Anne, he'd freak out. Two… Lynn didn't think that even herself was ready to face Lincoln. She'd break down. She needed to be strong for him. He deserved it.

"Lynn, people make mistakes," Amber's voice said from over the phone. "Feeling sorry for Lincoln won't help much… you want him to get better, don't you?"

If Lynn could strangle Amber through the phone, she would have. "Of course! What kind of a question is that?"

"I doubt this will last forever… be patient. In the meantime, sulking won't do anything. The best thing you can do right now is make sure Lincoln has an amazing big sister to come back to when he snaps out of this trance thing he's in. Right?"

Amber was right. Lynn needed to improve. Her egotistical, overly competitive attitude is what dragged Lincoln into this mess. She'd have to fix that.

"Thanks for the talk, Amber. See you at pr—"

Wait. Lynn wouldn't see Amber at practice. She was grounded. Right.

"See you later, Amber." With that, she hung up the call and started to think.

Luan didn't mind school. Her friends often complained, in detail, about how much they hated it. Bleh.

Luan wasn't much of a fan herself, but she didn't despise the place. Sure, it got annoying when Mrs. Jones administered a pop quiz or when she got loaded with homework from Mr. Bernie. Still, it wasn't torture or anything spending time at Royal Woods High.

But, today, it was.

Lincoln was on her mind. Luan saw firsthand when her brother's head collided with the rock. She was screaming when it happened. Since the incident, it replayed constantly in her head. It just wouldn't leave, no matter how much Luan wanted it to go, and, trust her, she wanted it to go away badly.

She wanted to forget the whole thing, at least for the school day. But it wouldn't. It distracted her. It tormented her. It ate away at her.

I should have helped, she thought, but then quickly dismissed the notion. There was nothing she could have done. Lynn was quick. To quick. Even if Luan knew what was about to happen, she would be powerless to stop it.

"Richard Nixon was the first and only president to resign," the teacher droned.

Luan could barely pay attention. Not helping matters was the fact that, presently, she was in history, her worst subject. She was a good student, she really was! But, sometimes, her mind wandered out of the classroom without her even realizing it. Today was certainly no exception. The image of Lincoln's head hitting the rock was burnt in her mind.

He was lucky to have passed out! Luan couldn't even begin to imagine the pain if he was conscious.

"Luan?" asked the teacher.

She jumped a little in her seat, having a mini heart attack. Sitting in the back of the classroom, she could see students begin to turn around and look at her.

Hot embarrassment surged through Luan, her cheeks turned light red. "Uh, w-what was the question?"

The teacher sighed. "Next time, Luan, pay attention. I asked what protesters chanted against Lyndon Johnson."

Lyndon Johnson, she thought. Wow, the first part of his first name was the same as Lynn's. This reminded Luan about Lynn… and what she did to Lincoln.

Wait, what was the question again? Something about chanting?

"Uhh… I don't know. Sorry."

Once again, Luan's teacher let out a sigh. "The correct answer was, 'Hey, hey, LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?'"

How many kids did you kill today?, Luan thought. Oh my God. Lincoln could have died. The head is a weak thing, after all… if he hit it harder, or in a different place…

Luan excused herself to the bathroom to catch her breath.

Lisa Loud did not like Clyde McBride.

He was like a second version of Lincoln, just a worse one. Take every negative quality about Lisa's brother—his nerdy addiction to comic books, his dorkiness, his obsession with Lori (okay, maybe not that last one—that was exclusive to Clyde… Lisa prayed), and boom! You have Clyde McBride.

Why, then, had she agreed to meet with him at his house?

She didn't know. Maybe it was because at this point, she was desperate for any fix to her brother's memory issue she could get. Her own research had turned up fruitless. She worked with chemicals… she was a scientist. The brain was the most complicated organ in the body. As smart as she was, Lisa knew little about it. Neurological jazz was just out of her field.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice," he said. "I'd have come over to your place… but… uh… I don't think I'm ready to see Lincoln again just yet. Not in… not in his current state."

Lisa held up her hand. "No, no. It's fine. Now, why did you summon me?"

Clyde took a bite of cookie. The two were sitting in the McBride living room. Clyde's parents had baked snickerdoodles on the fact Clyde had told them he was having a friend over. When they saw Lisa at the door, they were a bit confused as to why their son had invited over a four-year-old, and they were even more confused as to why Lisa had walked over by herself.

I didn't walk, she said. I drove.

It was true. The McBride parents looked in their driveway, and, sure enough, Lisa's vehicle, the same one she used to deploy salt during winter storms with, was right there.

Howard had whistled. You've got one heck of a ride, kid. It's basically a tank.

Presently, Clyde adjusted his glasses. "I called you over, well, because I have a plan to bring back Lincoln's memory, and I need your help."

Lisa scoffed, uninterested. "What makes you think I'd lend my assistance? Why not one of my other sisters? Surely, as older beings, they'd be a more suitable aid?"

"I need someone smart. You're the most intelligent person I know."

She chuckled. "I suppose that is true."

"I also need someone with a vehicle. How fast can you drive that thing out there?"

Clyde told her his plan, and a devilish smile grew on her face.