“You’re, you’re not the same,” Pag said from a safe distance. “You’re not even Siri anymore.” “I am too. Don’t be a fuckwad.” “They cut out your brain!” “Only half. For the ep—” “I know, for the epilepsy! You think I don’t know? But you were in that half—or, like, part of you was…” He struggled with the words, with the concept behind them. “And now you’re different. It’s like, your mom and dad murdered you—” “My mom and dad,” I said, suddenly quiet, “saved my life. I would have died.” “I think you did die,” said my best and only friend. “I think Siri died, they scooped him out and threw him
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