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"No! God!" He's trying to distract you from the real topic. That must be it. "He's my retainer, but it doesn't even matter, okay? Speaking of Maddie— no, no. You remember all that stuff I told you about Headspace? About Headspace, and Namway, and Management, and Casey, and..."
Ellery shifts. "Yes."
"So, there's more. There's, uh... well, listen. You did break up with Madrigal."
"You said we weren't going to talk about this. You <span class="mu-i">said</span>—"
"I said it wasn't the main point, okay? And it's not. You broke up with her, even though you're obviously still creepily obsessed with her, and you can't even give me a good reason. That's because you don't have a good reason. 'You just did.' That's what you said, right? You just broke up? Haven't you ever thought that maybe there was a good reason?"
"This is so none of your business that it's not even— what if I said no? How would you feel about that, Lottie? If I said 'no, I've never wondered'— maybe it was meant to be, huh? Did you consider that? Maybe it just fell apart, like these things do, and we mutually kind of agreed that—"
"You were sitting in her empty tent," Gil says. "Waiting for her to get rescued."
"Uh, she didn't need to be rescued." Ellery taps his half-carved wooden thingy against his knee. "She actually got out just fine, so there was never anything to—"
"That has nothing to do with this! Are you stupid? Ellery, there <span class="mu-i">was</span> a reason. And the reason was—"
You explain it. The freelance work with Headspace. The EZ-M.A.N.S.E. and its dirty secret. His discovery of the dirty secret. Management stepping in, threatening Madrigal, forcing...
Fake Ellery is jittering in multiple places: his wrist, his ankle, his thumb against his fist. He's squinting. He might actually be sweating. His mouth has advanced so far past 'nervous grin' that it's unrecognizable, mangled-looking, the expression of someone mid-dental procedure, or maybe even pre-dental-procedure. Like you froze him right there, right as a large brick was hitting his jaw. He hasn't spoken in a long time.
Ellery not speaking is never a good sign. "Ellery?" you say. "Are you following? This is sort of important?"
No response, except for a snot-wad of black goop dripping from his lips. Oh, great.
"Gil?" you say.
"Ah! Uh... aw, shit, that doesn't look good." He's peering at the black goop too.
"Gil, you're glowing."
"I-I-I— aw, shit!" His hands are. "Sorry! I can't turn it—"
"Shhh! Don't you think there's a reason?" There's always been a reason before, hasn't there? "I mean, he..."
Gil follows your gaze to the black goop again, and back to you, and you have a whole nonverbal exchange (him pleading, you insistent) before he peels himself off the wall, creeps up behind Ellery, presses his lips together, looks back at you ('do it!' you mouth), shuts his eyes, and gingerly presses his hands against the top of Ellery's skull. There's a flash, and you shut your eyes, too—
(2/5)