As disorienting as it was for Snow, it was just as bizarre for Fang to contemplate time disparities. And it took a moment for What Snow was saying to even penetrate her awareness, so focused was Fang on the very real implications of what was going to happen to Vanille without Fang's intervention. What might happen, she corrected herself, though the thought didn't offer her the kind of hope it probably should have.

Six months ago.

"What?" Plainly off balance, Fang took an step toward him, her features slack with disbelief. This was Snow talking, and the man didn't have a disingenuous bone in his body. But Fang wasn't about to back down because he was her friend anymore than she was going to be intimidate by the man's size, nearly a foot taller than her or otherwise.

"What are you talking about?"