“You can still talk to... «Crosstalk»
Tintirichka5 декабря 2025“You can still talk to us—”
“It’s not the same!” Maeve wailed. “I could talk to you anywhere! I hate not having that anymore.”
So does C.B., Briddey thought, in spite of what he told me.
He’d hated the hiding and the roaring voices and having to constantly witness humanity’s nastier side, hated being an outcast and having people think he was crazy. But it was still his life, and the only one he’d ever known. And his gift—and it was a gift, in spite of everything bad that went along with it—had molded him and made him who and what he was: kind and funny and selfless and unbelievably brave.
And there had been parts of it he’d loved—the late-night silences and the Carnegie Room and the crosstalk they’d shared.
“And now not having it is like way worse than before I got it,” Maeve was saying, “because before, I didn’t know what it was like, but now I do, and I know how neat it was, and I really miss it, you know?”
“Yes,” Briddey said, thinking of C.B. sitting next to her in the car, leaning over her in the stacks, talking to her about Guys and Dolls and Bridey Murphy and where they were going to go on their honeymoon.
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