Gaeta laughs then -- it's small, constrainend like so much else about him, but heartfelt. "I knew I just had to find the right audience," he says. "But yeah, the way I designed them, they probably would've fallen down as soon as they built the second floor. I was convinced an ice cream cone building would stand up fine, even though the foundation was ten feet square, tops. Good thing I learned basic physics pretty soon after."

Still -- what would his seven-year-old self think if he saw him now, exhausted and broken but talking about being an architect like it was a real, genuine possibility? It makes his heart ache, half longing and half wistfulness; it makes him say, "Yeah. Yeah, I bet there's something around. I'd -- really like that, if you find anything."

He glances to Tayrey's slate, then back to her face.

"Do you want to get a drink in the meantime?"