"I don't mind," I say slowly, going over the logic. Bucky makes sense, but still. Then again, it might have a clue in it as to why we're both of us here, and why we can't remember the things we ought to.

"If it's mine, I guess. And it might be able to tell us something." I start down the real short hallway to the bedroom and pick the book up from where I'd left it.

"I'm not normally- I didn't mean to be disrespectful of it," I explain to Bucky.

"It was just finding a photograph of my mother... I was real startled, and..."