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"I see you weren't lying when you said you don't remember anything from your past life," the entity said, showing a pile of images to a young man. Remember what happened. The school year ended, and a lot of teenagers left high school happy; among the crowd was Jean, pushing the other students to get out quickly. The young man had only one thing in mind. A blond man also walked quickly through a pile of students in a school hallway, which looked like a New York street because of so many posters and advertisements pasted since the beginning of the year. He turned his head, looking both ways: only empty rooms with messy desks and papers on the white ceramic floor. He arrived at the entrance of the school. Many students regrouped into small groups, talking about what they wanted for the summer or how their school year went. Jean was alone, staring at the front door, waiting for the blond man; their quarrels had been going on for two years. Every problem Jean got into was getting into a