What's clear in her mind passes to Curtis's in a brief, blurred smudge. Eighteen years around a certain face, though, and you can recognize it no matter what.

He grows quiet, his own thoughts and emotions drawing to the stillness of a frozen lake. "Okay," is all he says, softly.

There's nothing they could talk about there. There's nothing they can do, besides letting Edgar's anger run its course. Even if that course lasts the rest of their afterlives.