The look Noah gave Macy after her comment was unamused. Honestly, he was very angry, because -- he didn't know what was going on. Noah liked to know what was going on. He didn't like pleading for answers - and he didn't usually have to. He was generally capable of figuring things out or they were blatantly obvious and required no figuring out, anyway. But this? This was like if M.C. Escher came in and drew staircases that wound up to the ceiling and snaked along walls, and the floors were checkerboards. Things just didn't make sense. It was all an optical illusion, a trick of the light, smoke, mirrors, plain old insanity.
It was too much. Far too much. He let himself sit for a moment, eyes closed again. "Why can't you tell me what happened?"