"Insufficient information."

"Yeah." She stretches her legs out, leans left, leans right. Rubs her neck. Doesn't help with the headache.

"Are you in pain?"

"Head's killing me. Other than that just wobbly."

"I have no solution to offer."

"Didn't think you did. It should clear up eventually."

"What?"

"Miles," he says; and then louder, "What took you so long?"

"Hi, Miles. You didn't say you had a twin."

"He's an embarrassment on a number of levels and I've only known about him for a few months - Mark, what's wrong?"

"You!"

"Him, what?"

"My soul. Mark has detected the loss of my soul and accurately guessed how upset I am about it and now he's equally upset but worse at hiding it."

"Oh. Well, you're going on a field trip sometime, right?"

"Yes. Soon. I'm going to be fine, Mark."

"You are not fine," Mark murmurs.

Bella gamely attempts to stand. Success. Wobbly success.

Mark looks at Miles.

"I'm not psychic," says Miles.

"...What, and Mark is? What are you being not psychic about?"

"Mark is non-literally psychic, he can just guess what I'm thinking with surpassing accuracy at all times. Normally I do a pretty good job of guessing right back."