"It makes total sense," Carson disagreed, a small frown crinkling between his brows as he tried to paint a picture from her story. It was so muddled and vivid simultaneously, and not for the first time, he felt like he might be talking to some sort of comic book heroine. "I mean, you didn't see him for years, and all of sudden he's right there in front of you, right? Memories are weird. The human mind is weird. Have you ever smelled or tasted something, and then it reminds you of something that happened when you were a little kid, or of a certain person? So seeing him is the same deal. You just got reminded, is all."

Chewing at his lip, he glanced down at their joined hands in a bold move he hoped he wouldn't regret, threaded their fingers together. "I think," he started carefully. "That everything you dealt with, what all of you dealt with, was really jacked up. Maybe they didn't do everything right, but they tried. Maybe they could have done better, but they did what they could, right? Besides," he shrugged. "A name doesn't make you you. Whether you're Dee or just Girl, you're who you are." He felt an odd heat start to creep up the back of his neck again, and with a steadying inhale he shrugged again. "And I mean. I don't know you all that much yet. But from what I can tell, you're special. And not just for being a bomb, either."