The smile on 3V’s face is almost infectious. Almost. The tablet lies forgotten on her lap. It’s giddy. She’s giddy. This is the side of her that does the research. Because opening with that? That means there is something here. A shadow on the water. Something that demands to be understood, dug into, chewed on. And maybe it’ll hurt her later, sure. But right now? Here and now? She grins, and leans forward, blind to food, blind to November, blind to anything but what’s been dangled in front of her.

“Okay,” she says. “I believe you,” she says, and means it. She really does. Her fingers drum on the side of the tablet, impulse without thought. “But you don’t [i]open[/i] with that unless there’s one hell of an explanation following.”