They came forward, and dozens upon dozens of hands reached toward the Ogre, touching his shoulder, his arm, and even his face, taking little bits of him away. One taste of the chocolate was enough to win most of them over.

“But, but . . . Mary told us he was a monster,” said one of the reluctant ones.

“He was,” said Milos being careful to choose his words just right. “But it was Mary’s dream to rehabilitate him, and to make him see her way. Now her dream has come true.”

“Mary . . . ,” said the Chocolate Ogre. He looked off, searching his sopping sweet memory of a mind. “I loved Mary,” he said. This next part came out as a question. “And . . . Mary loved . . . me?”

Milos stood with his mouth open. Moose and Squirrel were wise enough to stay quiet and waited to see how Milos would handle it.

“Yes,” Milos finally said. “Yes. Mary loves all of us, and we all love her.”

The Chocolate Ogre shook his head “No, this was different. . . .” And as Milos watched, it seemed that his features began to look clearer and more defined, less like a thing, and more like a person. Even his voice sounded less slippery. “Yes, we were in love.”

Then Milos let out a calculated laugh and Moose and Squirrel took the cue to laugh as well, until Milos put up his hand to silence them, and became very, very serious.

“Loss of memory is not a thing to laugh at,” Milos said. “All Afterlights must face it. I am truly sorry, and I hope you will forgive me. But you see, Mary has only one love—one soulmate in Everlost . . . and that would be me.”

The Ogre said nothing at first, and Milos didn’t give him any time to think it through. “In all the stories I have heard about the Chocolate Ogre, no one ever mentions Mary—but there is a girl to whom the Ogre is devoted. Let’s see, what was her name again?” Milos pretended to think for a moment, then snapped his fingers. “Jill! That’s it—her name is Jackin’ Jill.”

“Jill?” The Ogre took in the lie, and his face began to lose some of its form again, his identity moving away from the boy once known as Nick.

“Yes, you love Jill,” Milos insisted, “and you long to wrap your arms around her, and smother her in chocolate, and sink with her down to the center of the earth.”

“And . . . and this Jill . . . she loves me?”

“More than anything,” said Moose.

Squirrel snickered. “Yeah, yeah, a match made in heaven.” The Chocolate Ogre’s muddy eyes now darted back and forth between the three of them in confusion.

“Do whatever I tell you,” said Milos, “and we will make sure you find Jackin’ Jill, the girl you love.”