He had the sudden urge to hug her again, but this time he didn’t act on it, just folded his own arms against his chest. He had a very sudden, very clear feeling: He did not want to tell her. Not that she didn’t deserve to know, or anything like it. But the fact that she wouldn’t be able to come back from knowing. That it would make her more desperate to get home rather than less. Or worse, that she wouldn’t believe him.

He didn’t want to tell her.

But he didn’t have a choice.

Thanks to his stupid power, he would tell her eventually. It would just fall out of him, no matter how much he wanted to resist it. He had no control over his own secrets, and if he tried to keep it from her now only to spill it later, she would never forgive him.

So he grimaced.

“Jess...” Force, but how to tell her? “A lot happened. And none of it is good. Are you sure you want to know?”