Even after having met Newt, I hadn't realized the virus was still in him. He seemed okay when we spoke, definitely in good spirits and I remember him saying what Thomas had done for him, but I suppose I'd been naive in just assuming that'd be the end of it. Given everything else Thomas has told me of his world, not to mention what I've actually seen now, it makes a certain sick sort of sense that this will linger for him. Always.

A growing guilt gnaws at my belly and I nod again, frowning as I look up at him. "I'm sorry," I tell him, fidgeting at the cuffs of his shirt. "It's not good of me to presume what anyone wants and I don't even know why..." I trail off, shaking my head again. "I'm really sorry."