Arla shrugged. "Dunno what to tell you, David," she said, thinking on this for a while. "Wish I did, but I don't." She didn't know what she believed. She knew, mathematically, she couldn't prove the existence of God. But, really, with the beauty of how the world worked, mathematically, she couldn't disprove an intelligent hand in it, either. Still, God let some pretty shitty stuff happen if he was looking down.

She grit her teeth before grudgingly saying, "There isn't an answer to every problem. Some things just are." She craned her neck to one side, like this statement hurt, like it had been forced out of her. Really, she had to say that. But she didn't believe it. Everything was solvable. Everything had an answer, everything had a root, everything evened itself out in an equation; some things were just harder to prove and discover than others. "But... there might be a way out of your little... memory-wipe thing. You never know."