“There was a brief twilight between when the pain meds kicked in and when the meds knocked her out,” I said. I moved my fingers, felt how unlike skin the backs of my hands felt, stiff with the stuff I hadn’t managed to wash off. I’d rushed, because I’d wanted to get back to keeping an eye on the students from the Patrol group.

“Are you going to finish that thought?” Gilpatrick asked, his voice soft.

I closed my eyes. “Um. We chatted. She said she was staying with a family member already, so she’d have someone to look after her if she needed it.”

Thinking about family pulled my thoughts in a few different directions. I could have tried picking a safer one, but I wasn’t sure I was that on the ball, being as tired and discouraged as I was.

I went on, “Her brother cut ties with her when she went villain. She was living in that area where all the building foundations were screwed up because they were rushed, and everyone had to leave the homes they’d just settled in, reached out to her brother, and she’s been staying with him, reconnecting. It might give me some hope for her, having that positive influence, but she sounded pretty cynical about it all when we had the conversation right after meeting, before everything happened.”

“Cynicism is understandable, to a degree. That’s where she’s at. Where are you at, Victoria?”

“Similar to Fume Hood, really. I wasn’t evicted because of rushed apartment construction, but I’ve been staying with my dad because it means we each pay half the rent, and I want to keep my options open with things being what they are.”

“I wasn’t talking about living accommodations,” Gilpatrick said. “Your head, your heart. Are there any lingering effects from the emotion effect?”

“For the last two years,” I whispered.

“Sorry? I didn’t catch that,” he said.

“It’s gone. It really sucked while it was in effect, but it’s gone. Right now I’m in that heavyhearted, almost-blameless-but-guilty ‘morning after’ phase, where I’m reflecting on everything I did when I was under the influence,” I said.

“I know that well enough. I’ve been hit a few times by those, back when I was a squaddie and squad leader. And by you, once.”

“You asked me to,” I pointed out, looking up at Gilpatrick, “and this was a bad one. Snag? I read about a thing online, keeping tabs on who was out there. I’m pretty sure he’s part of a new multitrigger cluster. It might have been amplified by the tinkering, if it wasn’t, then something else was in play. That didn’t hit me like it was a minor or secondary power.”

“Sorry,” he said.

He wasn’t a bad guy. I wanted to be angry but I couldn’t justify it.