I don't know what Lochlan's up to either but he's a grifter by trade so I don't question him, I just watch and learn and maybe someday I'll understand better how he went here to there, eviscerating a hard list of Don't-Touches that featured Duncan at the top or thereabouts in favor of a night we can probably never speak of again but won't ever forget.
I don't know whether to pinch myself for the dreams or renounce the Collective and spend the remainder of my life in a convent atoning for these sins.
Bless me father, for I am wicked-good, I whisper to no one in particular. I stretch my arms out. They ache today, worse than yesterday. Ben. Ben really liked Lochlan's actions as retold by me and took it out on me from three this morning until about nine-thirty. To that end it was worth the confusion that remains. So worth it.
My phone buzzes softly and when I check it there's a message from Caleb. He's home. See me at four. No I missed you. No I'm disappointed in you. No hint of the carnage and chaos to come. He will be angry. I'm not sure I'm concerned, exactly. I'm too busy trying to figure out how Lochlan is conducting this orchestra. I'm waiting to hear the song.
