A hex? Like a curse? [ This is the only definition she has ever heard for the word "hex". It doesn't sound like much of a solution, if she's honest, unless Wanda thinks she can curse the Singularity itself, and that sounds like a bad idea. But what does Julie know?

She shakes her head a little, swallows hard. It's not that simple to explain, and her fear is based heavily on the fact that she knows what lies inside her own head. What she doesn't want other people to have to experience through her eyes. And what she doesn't want people to see she's done in the wake of it.

Julie's fingers curl around Wanda's, and her eyes are big, if slightly troubled. ]

I'm not gonna judge you, or think different of you, Wanda. But you can protect yourself better outside of here. That's what I'm sayin', anyone in here could be seein' any memory of yours and you wouldn't even know it.

[ But before she can elaborate any more, try to describe what happened to her earlier, the cabin fades away, is replaced. The new setting is immediately familiar to Julie, so much that it takes her breath away. They're in a small, slightly run-down house, in the kitchen. There's a mess in the sink, on the table, but they seem recent; this kitchen was clean and organized not that long ago. It's hot and humid -- the power is out.

A different Julie walks through the back door, from outside. She looks just a tiny bit younger, has longer hair that's cotton candy pink instead of bubble gum. She wears a tee shirt tied at the waist, tiny jean shorts, cowboy boots. There's dirt all over her face and arms, and she carries a shovel that she leans against the wall. Grabbing a bottle of water, she wets a kitchen towel and wipes her cheeks and forehead.

The real Julie, the current Julie, stares at her twin. Whispers. ] Not this.