"No—I don't think I used to."
He was silent for a long time; then he hissed, "Are you sure you haven't been stung recently?"
Another brief silence. Then the girl laughed softly. A wave of prickles crept along his scalp.
"I've got the shotgun in my lap, Morgan."
"How long?" he whispered in horror.
"Six months."
"Six months! You're lying! You'd be fully depersonalized! You'd be in complete liaison with Oren!"
"But I'm not. Sometimes I can feel when they're near. That's all."
"But if it were true—your brain would be replaced by the parasite!"