“Uh, I—“ Cecil’s self-consciousness becomes confusion, and confusion quickly becomes self-doubt. He knows his memory is frighteningly poor, and his mutation renders his perception of reality strange and unstable. Maybe he didn’t see what he thought he saw. Maybe he’s mistaking this person for someone else, or he forgot some important detail, or he imagined the whole thing. Maybe he should have listened to Carlos. Cecil relies on him for things like this.
“I thought I saw something, but you know how unreliable thoughts are,” he says. “…Just in case, though—did you happen to be kidnapped by some strange men while the riots were happening?”