Can her Friend stop her from literally dying of anguished uncertainty? No, probably not; she has to do it herself. She does her absolute best to keep her voice level and gentle. "No, Kyle, you're still alive. I'm Sophie. I know I don't look like it but it's true. You - you got lost somehow, no one knew where you were, but you came back and I saved you. Or I'm working on it anyway."

She stops herself, before the strands of her self control get any more frayed. What does long-term water ghost possession do to a person? What does he even remember?

Sophie. That's another deep word; if he leans too far into it, he'll fall. He pulls himself away, puts his focus on the stranger's face. There's a wholeness in the duality of it, he realizes, the way the perfect pairs of eyes and ears and nostrils defy their two-ness and become one.

It's sparkling and pure.

But not familiar.

There was a person named Sophie. He can get a little closer to that thought now, without losing his place to stand. And, there is someone sitting on my chest. Is there any kind of unity that bridges the duality of those two facts? The branches overhead seem to bend inward toward her, at the edges of his vision, wreathing her head in a spiky language that he almost thinks he could read, if only

He's getting lost again. She...asked him something, or wanted something, and he's forgotten what it was.

"Sophie," he breathes. "I don't..."

"Yes, it's me. I saw the light in your treehouse and you let me in and we talked about your mom and we kept meeting there and then I kissed you and you kissed me and it wasn't perfect but it was great right up until you disappeared but I wasn't worried because I knew I'd see you again but this is it, I'm seeing you again, and I don't know what's going to happen now..."

Shit. She only just realized that as she was saying it, but it's true.

It's the treehouse that does it. He remembers the work of it, the sore muscles and sweat, how he and his father - what a blazing, annihilating thing, to have a father! - built it and expanded it, three summers in a row. They didn't own the land it was built on, it was a little too deep in the woods for that, but who ever checks?

And then...it wasn't perfect, but it was great. Yes. It's a beautiful thought, bizarre and alien to --

-- he flinches again, can't finish the thought, but it's ok. Now he can picture her, his Sophie, who apparently is also this Sophie even though she doesn't look the same. Only maybe she looked like that all along, and he just never realized? There's something profound there, and he tries to chase after it, but when he nails it to the English language it reads nothing looks like it looks. Disgusting.

She's crying, he suddenly realizes. Or, no, he knew it before; now he understands it, knows it's important. That triggers a reflex, which triggers another, and then he's trying to reach up and wipe the tears off her cheek. He can't, though; she's still kneeling on his arms.

"Hey. Hey. We'll fix it."

It's you. Whatever happened to you, you're still in there.

The relief is so intense it's like another lightning strike, washing out every thought and feeling she's had on this long, ghastly morning. It wasn't too late. Gradually, though, the afterimage fades, and the reality of their situation presses in around the corners. They're not actually done, are they. Nowhere close. They have to get somewhere safe. Kyle needs a hospital. The ghost could come back. There's still more.

Why is there more

She'll keep sitting on him; she can wipe her own face, thanks all the same. He stays down until she's sure the water ghost isn't coming back.

He won't fight her on it. He feels absolutely exhausted, right down to his bones, and he'd like to just lie here for another year, storm and all.

Priorities. Sophie is good at priorities. What does she need to know, right now?

how ok kyle is really how her magic works how other magic works how otso works what his dad is up to where ghosts come from how you banish them what the ritual did who really did it are they even a ghost if you do magic on tv does someone assassinate you how's emily doing what happens if you get the wrong card are there more where are they does this mean god is real not like existing but doing stuff where did the ghost go if she chased it now could she catch it and finish this does she know any wizards if she wanted to summon a storm like this could she could she stop one can she show carol her card should she should she show kyle what does the pastor think happened is the house ok is mom ok should she find -

Sophie cuts herself off, embarrassed and a little scared. She mostly feels like she's got herself under control, here, and that's not a _lie_ but it's not _complete either_. There's pressure building up somewhere, in directions her Friend can't understand. Consequences, maybe, of all the times she's told herself "I'll think about that later." She really wants it to be later but it isn't yet.

Refocus. What would she tell _herself_ to do, if she were someone else?

Try something simpler: what does she want Kyle to tell her?

"Kyle, do you remember where you've been, these last three weeks? What you were doing?"

He's starting to. It's like a dream, only he woke up and everything is still real.

"...I killed someone."

...he means while he was possessed, right?

"I don't think it was you, you were possessed by a ghost, or, or a demon or something. It's not that weird, I got possessed by a playing card, that's how things are around here right now. Just tell me."

Kyle hears that, but he's having a hard time processing it. He's remembering a face in the smoke, the different feels of the knife as it thrust into and through the wizard's heart, the way the lakewater leapt out of the bowl to avoid touching his blood...

Maybe a prompt will help.

"How did it start?"

It does help. He flexes his hands, feels the fresh intensity of skin and tendon. When was the last time I felt like that? That catches at a feeling he can follow, and then he has it.

"I was...down in Boston. For the tournament?"

She nods.

"There was a guy there...giving away free juice. Tall. Old. Weird somehow. But it was free, and bottled...so why not? A bunch of us took some."

"I made the finals...so I was late. It was dark out, no one around. I got to my car and the juice guy was there. He was holding a coin, and the streetlight was shining off of it...and then he was falling over and I caught him, and laid him out in the backseat of my car."

"I drove away. I went to this tattoo parlor, I'd never seen it before but I drove straight there. They were expecting me. I got a tattoo." It hurt, but he never flinched, never moved at all. "It's on the back of my thigh, I never saw it." His brain catches, remembering how he just whipped off his own pants for the elderly tattooist with no hesitation or shame.

A Clue! They can look at it together later. Right now she wants to hear the rest of the story. She nods again.

If he just keeps saying things, keeps letting one thought connect to another, then he can do this, he thinks.

"I drove north out of Boston. It felt like I was going home but we stopped by a bridge. This other big old guy was there. I said,"

and suddenly the sense memory catches him

"Sorry I'm late, this the only one who came out alone."

WHY IS KYLE USING THE EVIL GHOST VOICE ALL OF A SUDDEN

Wait, don't panic, she doesn't have to guess about this. Where does her Friend think the ghost is; over there, or right here?

Still all the way over there, don't worry don't worry about that, anyway.

She'll watch Kyle warily anyway, just in case.