"So he can hear it when I pray."

"He doesn't have to hear when you pray for you to keep him up, genius. He loves you."

"I can't exactly help that, can I?"

"No, but you can stop fucking with his head."

"Can we skip the gaslighting for one night? Please? I'm tired."

"It's not, but I'll drop it if you will. Tonight."

"Thank you."

It's sincere. She is tired, and cold, and -- as always -- her best friend is dead.

"...do you want me to turn off the air conditioning."

"It's okay. It's warming up under the blankets."

...he reaches out and clicks it off.

"I said it was okay!"

"...was that for me?"

"No. It's not important. Forget it."

He sips his ice water.

She cuddles up to a pillow.

"Do you think he'll be back soon?"

He nods.

"It's never that long."

"It happens regularly and you don't know what it is?"

"Not regularly," he says, a little defensively.

"Have you asked?"

"...I know where he's going sometimes. Just...he didn't have time to tell me."

Definitely worried.

"Well. ...it's not like he can get hurt."

"...I guess not."

Spoken like someone who is desperately hoping that's true.

"He's the devil."

"What, do you know where he went?"

"You can't hurt the devil!"