Look. [And he sighed a little because he didn't know what she was shaking her head at, what it was she was denying, but he was going to assume everything. Go big or go home.]

Last time, you laid a bunch of shit on me and told me to go back with my own eyes and get my answers/ I did. And shit, you were right on some pretty major stuff, I'll admit it. [The body parts. The illness. That wasn't incorrect, that was gross and horrible and she had been honest, had opened his eyes to that. He owed her one.

He might be able to return the favor.]

Maybe you should do the same. Go back. Ask questions. Make up your own mind instead drinking the Kool-Aid they give you. Then maybe we can meet up again and you'll tell me what you found, just like I told you?