Bee nods, not so much in agreement as in acknowledgment. Dr. Rush is barely holding himself together, she thinks, his current thought processes flooding his senses. She can't read those thoughts, but their presence spikes in her awareness nonetheless, tied down to so much of his past. Is it easier to read because it's so familiar? Her various atypicalities haven't manifested in such a volatile fashion, but she recognizes them at their sources nonetheless.

She says nothing, leaving the conversation ball in his proverbial court, leading him at a moderately brisk pace to the east edge of the park.