“Did you like Scully?” Tom is quiet for a moment. I can hear the wheels turning in his head, trying to parse out why on earth I’m talking about Dana Scully at three in the morning. He settles on, “She’s a fine character, sure.” “But she’s always wrong.” My eyes have begun to burn. “I bet she wishes she could be a believer, like Fox is. I bet Eurydice wished she could believe in the power of song the way Orpheus did. But these women…their skepticism kept them safe. Because everything outside of logic is…is unknown, and the unknown is…is—” “Terrifying,” Tom supplies.
