[There's a pang of recognition in his chest, from not knowing - from never knowing- what date you were born. The meager celebrations that Grisha indulged in on such days, had always been beyond him.

He had resented that as a child, seething in jealousy as he watched from the outskirts of every town, every hamlet and every dingy cave, as his peers were toasted to or had one of the rare cakes.]

Newton made a poster. It has the birthday of everyone here on it. He didn't remove yours when you left. [There had been a battle of wills over it, with Aleksander scribbling over it and Newton making new ones to replace the ones he ruined.]

It is in the common living area, I think. On the wall.

[Still pock-marked with crayons and festive stickers from the last time the station had a gathering.]

Did you find the things you left behind here?