"Yes," Neal says, and he has the strangest sense that something else is using his throat, his tongue to form words. Can only tell the truth, the doctor had said. Rebecca had said?

Neal squeezes his eyes shut. "Everyone does."

There's an ache in his chest at the statement that runs deeper somehow than it should. Like the channel of loneliness in him is opening onto something else, touching something out in the darkness between dreams.

He growls quietly. "Except he won't, and he didn't betray you. He protected himself. He didn't do anything you didn't force him to choose."