“Can I ask you a personal question?” Larkin cast a critical look at Hackett. Seeming to take silence as an indicator of yes, Hackett asked, “Are you autistic?” Rolling to a stop at the next red light, Larkin looked at Hackett a second time. “No.” “I just got that spicy vibe from you.” “Spicy,” Larkin repeated, unblinking. “Neurospicy.” “You mean neurodivergent.” Another laugh. “Yeah.”
