"The beginning, if you can," Phoenix answered, voice self-consciously hushed. He drummed his fingers on the slightly-scuffed laminated menu, taking a moment to think. "You said that I was already here when you arrived. And . . . it was that night when . . .?" He trailed off, unsure how he wanted to phrase it. When they put your dad's voice in your head? When we got together? When I apparently became an action hero? None of them were really things he felt comfortable saying in a restaurant, now matter how quiet the tones.