I said at last, “I stole it. I didn’t… do this.” My words, dead even before they were spoken. “That’s okay.” She shrugged. “I think what you’re doing makes sense.” “You do?” “Of course. Perfection destroys the human soul. You know I used to help kids with brain damage find their voice? That was before Rafe made me a monster.” “You’re not…” “I killed humanity,” she corrected, light as a feather, before I could speak. “I gave people the tool to suck out everything that was flawed, ugly and bitter, and it turns out that all that is left is a piece of marketing.
