[ Algric takes in a deep breath, steeling himself. ]

Most days, I didn't see him. I mean, nobody saw him, but. That doesn't mean he wasn't there. Every time I'd relaxed just enough to think that maybe he wasn't hovering invisibly behind me, he'd just. Appear. And whatever mistake I'd just made, or. Or had made in the last week, he'd just rattle them off condescendingly, or. Just imply that he'd known, and my mind did the rest. I swear he's got some Eye in him too, I just -

[ DEEP BREATHS. ]

I couldn't talk to anyone. There - there weren't many I could talk to anyway, just. You know, Rosie? My old library pals? I did try with them, but. It had been a couple years since I'd moved to Archives, and strange things had happened, and ... you know how it is. Archives had always been kind of untouchable to begin with, and. Well. After the Flesh attack ate Tobias Fisher, they blamed us.

[ His voice falters a little. ]

Melanie hated me. Basira thought I was useless. They were both right. And my mother had just died, and ...

[ Now his voice is a whisper. ]

It got to be that Peter was the only one I talked to at all. That work was the anything that had any spark in my life. On the weekends, I just didn't get out of bed. Didn't clean, didn't ... take care of anything. I just shoved aside whatever trash had built up on my bed and. And slept in it.

I was miserable and there was no one there that could do anything about it. Least of all me.