"Oh, God, I forgot about that," Beverly says, letting out a short, soft laugh as she reaches over to take the joint from him. She's been here for so long now, and so much weird shit happens, that it's impossible to keep track of all of it, especially when it doesn't affect her personally. At least nothing seems to be going on here today, the quiet a relief. Although life seems to have gone mostly back to normal since the disaster that was Pyre Fest, her nerves are still shot. Whatever chaos might be coming next, she hopes it holds off a little while.

Taking a drag from the joint buys her a moment's time to contemplate the rest of what Neil has said. They made a pact that summer — she has a scar on her hand to remember it by; she's not sure she would without it — but it wasn't to keep each other's secrets. They never knew hers to keep them.

"Bill… I think I'd know Bill anywhere," she admits with a shrug, offering the joint back to Neil again as she looks out at the ocean. She'd seen him, after all, the way he is now, even if it took seeing him stumble out of the water here to recall that. "But for what it's worth, there's no secret-keeping pact. He just doesn't know mine."