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"Um, I—" You already told Gil about it. It's not <span class="mu-i">weird.</span> Positive thinking. "I don't have any idea. I don't remember... I honestly don't know about any of your stupid cult stuff. But I'm a little shaky on, uh, the last couple of years, so it's possible I..."
"Sorry?" Henry says. "'Shaky'?"
"I can't remember them," you mumble. "At all. I remember the last few months, but then it's— it's dark. So maybe I could've been involved in stupid cult stuff, or... or whatever garbage you want to hear. Okay?"
The lips have pursed. The fingers have laced. Henry is <span class="mu-i">concerned.</span> "Kiddo, slow down. You can't remember anything?"
"What do you think 'at all'—"
"Are you aware of a cause?"
You deliver a withering look. "I can't <span class="mu-i">remember</span> anything."
"...I take your point. That's..." Henry touches his forehead. "Is the loss patchy? I mean, is anything at all left behind?"
"<span class="mu-i">What</span> do you think 'at all'—"
"Clean. That's..." He dips his head. "I can't imagine how you feel, Charlotte. Please accept my deepest condolences."
Typical cultist manipulations. "I didn't say I was upset," you mutter. "It's fine. I'm over it, basically, so— do you know anything that wipes memories? Or anyone? Do <span class="mu-i">you</span> go around—"
"I don't," Henry says seriously. "And I couldn't tell you. Anything naturally occurring would leave patches. A clean wipe—"
"You're saying it's unnatural."
"I'm saying that it was deliberate. Something made the conscious choice to take those years from you. A terrible choice. What that something is... I wish I could tell you, kiddo, but I'm far from all-knowing. I don't have a clue."
You sigh out your nose.
"That all being said, that would check out. If you were involved in some way... I suspect substantially involved, given the evidence. Far along the Road, if you will."
If you turn your attention away from Henry, you can hear Earl's heavy breathing from all the way down the corridor. You opt to keep your attention on Henry. "You keep saying stuff about this stupid road like you think I know what it means. I'm just saying."
"Ah. Would you like to know?"
You narrow your eyes.
"...It isn't complex. It's the classical term for the personal journey we set upon. The striving for greater understanding and self-improvement."
"And what's at the <span class="mu-i">end</span> of the road?"
"In theory, absolute perfection of the self." Henry half-smiles. "In practice, the Spiral Road isn't quite a true spiral. Do you see this?"
He points to one of the weird spiraling patterns on his robes. "It's infinite. No end at all. It circles in, eating itself; we circle the drain, but never enter. The Spiral Road teaches us that absolute perfection of the self is unachievable, Charlotte, and if anybody tells you otherwise, they're trying to sell you something."
"Um," you say suspiciously, "shouldn't <span class="mu-i">you</span> be trying to sell me on this? Isn't that the point of you?"
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