“…I wouldn’t want someone to hurt themselves for my sake. Even if it meant bringing me back.”

“What am I supposed to do with that?” Lookout asked.

“Would Tristan want you to do this?” Brian asked. “To hurt like this?”

“I’m not sure if I care what he wants,” she said.

“Kenzie,” Candy said.

Lookout looked over.

“You’ve said before that there were times you felt like you needed to do something, but it wasn’t until later that you realized you were doing the wrong thing.”

“How can letting someone die and not doing something about it be the right thing?” Lookout asked.

“Sometimes there is no right thing,” Aisha said.

“Listen,” Candy said. “Look at this picture. Close your eyes, look through your cameras. Start with that. Can you do that for me?”

Lookout retreated, backing away until she was in a corner, as far from everyone else as possible, Candy and Parian in the doorway to her right, Grue and Aisha by the wall to her left. She closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” Candy said. “Look at us. Look at this scene from a distance. How many people think you need to take a break?”

“…A lot.”

“Can you count them?”

Lookout moved her head by small fractions, one bit every few seconds.

“No. I can’t keep my thoughts straight. There’s a lot of noise, tinker inspiration.”

“A lot of people think you need to take a break. You’re the only one who thinks you need to stay. Is there a possibility we’re right?”

“You’re not—no.”

“No?”

“No—I…” Lookout stopped, trailing off. Her eyes roved, studying things that weren’t there.

The tension relaxed. There was only defeat.

“Darlene and Chicken and I will sit with you.”

The kid nodded. “I left tech with my team. They’ll mess it up if they try to pack it up.”

“We’ll handle it.”

“It’s not that simple, it’s like the screwholes. You guys don’t have any common sense when it comes to tech.”

“You can write it down. We’ll bring paper and a pen.”

“I can type, if—”

“No tech,” Parian said. “You should disconnect for a bit.”

“Good idea,” Aisha said. “I’ll explain to your team.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Nothing is, Peep,” Aisha told the girl.

The girl retreated to the back room. Candy and Darlene followed.

Chicken Little hung back.

“You okay?” Aisha asked him.

He shook his head.

“Spooky stuff,” she said, her voice soft.

“A bit. I don’t know what to do.”

“I know.”

“Can I go get the tech?” he asked.

“Tattletale would kill me if she woke up and heard I sent you out.”

“I know how to handle it, kind of. I knew about the screw holes. Because we’ve helped build stuff and she made stuff for my birds, once.”

“Kid—”

“I want to help but I always feel like a third wheel when I’m standing by someone’s bed. I never know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.”