Jesse just stared at Savannah for a long moment as she went off on her spiel. Then he reached out, patted the top of her head, smiled, and turned to go find something else to occupy his attention, so he didn't, say, stare at her like she'd grown another head. It was so strange to him. It was like Samantha had latched herself onto books, voices that were coming at her from a source she could pick up and put down whenever she wanted to, that were never going to touch her in any fashion, and Savannah had latched onto the internet, and it was almost the same thing. Only more interactive than Samantha's bit. Either way, sometimes he wondered what the hell happened, and how he'd wound up seeming to be the sanest one. Him, the criminal of the family. The world was a strange, strange place.