When I heard the door close and Maddie’s and Pat’s voices fade down the hallway, I came back here, to my bed, and kept the lights off. We leave tomorrow morning.
Maddie had left me alone, except briefly asking me to dinner, so I think I’m in the clear. As in, though my mom had told Pat about NPC before we left for the tournament, Pat had not told Maddie.
As in, to Maddie, the episode earlier was just a breakdown. The thing is—and, Future Sam, I have had some time to think this through while snotting on myself for the entire day—this was not a fluke meant for both Maddie and me. It was part of a bigger fluke. A huge, blank, stinking hand of cards that, if I’m not careful, will last the rest of my life. But that’s not Maddie’s fault. She deserves to know that none of this, in any way, was meant to happen to her.
And Christ, if humans supposedly know how time works, how can it be possible to blow four years of work in thirty seconds? It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.