"Neal was the only person who was there for me that day, you know," Malcolm muses quietly. "I don't normally need rescuing, but... he's a real friend. I've never had someone who would stand up for me like he did. I've never had someone in my life who didn't care about social censure if it meant making it clear that they cared what happened to me," he continues in the same soft, almost wistful tone, looking up from his book. "What you just explained? That's why you quit last time," he adds matter of factly. "That's not why you quit this time. I haven't shouted or gotten emotional. Neal isn't here. And you haven't asked me what I think about whether I've complicated things for Shaw or what was true and not true in what she told a bunch of people about me on a day when I made a deliberate effort to stay out of her way and not complicate her business so, quite frankly, you don't have any idea what I think on the subject. That's Shaw's talking point, though. Malcolm thinks he hasn't done anything wrong and Will is perfect. The Shaw Version. You still haven't heard mine or made any effort to. Still. So... tell me about this 'they' that can't tell me anything. Is this the same legion of people whose lives I make difficult that Shaw talks about but can never name? Who are all these people I'm exhausting by existing? I'm dying to know."