Uncharles stared at her, trying to process this. “I have run you as a simulation,” he said. “No, it was me,” she told him. “Actual me, actually messaging you. You were always going on about links so I … made myself one. Because I missed you. I wanted to know that you were okay. Which you’re not, by the way. You’re a complete screwup. But you left, and I didn’t know why you left, but I thought you’d … not want to talk to me. If you thought it was me. So I … hacked you, just a little. Screwed with the message ID. So it looked like it came from you, not me. I’m sorry.” Uncharles reviewed his
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