[ Bastien slides his hand into Byerly’s hair to keep him where he is, and he huffs; it’s half a laugh, half a sigh, because he should have realized he was setting himself up to admit hypocrisy. ]

No. I don’t even know if they’re there. And I.

[ An explanation squirms around in his chest, but it’s another feeling he doesn’t have words for. What comes out instead is an adjacent anecdote: ]

I heard my father. In that castle, with the spirits. I didn’t see him, I just—that’s how it happened for real, too, the last time. I heard him talking, so I hid until he was gone. He told my friends to tell me to go home, because they were leaving, and they weren’t going to wait.

But he’d been saying we were going to leave for years, and we never had, so I thought– [ with a voice like an eye roll ] —sure, alright.