Strange has finished scratching out his various theories, now replaced with just the one-word CURSE??, but he notices after a moment that Gela has been suspiciously quiet. He looks back up again at her, then: seeing her mute, head shaking, shutting down.

And, if he thinks about it, he can’t really blame her. He’s hardly forthcoming about some of his more sore personal details, either.

The pause drags on a little too long, as he figures out how to school his expression, keep his voice gentle but straightforward: “I’m sorry. I appreciate you telling me,” he says. “I know it might be… unpleasant. But if we’re to understand what happened to you— and how to help you— it’d be useful to hear as much as you can recall, Gela. I know we’re meeting in my capacity as a doctor, but as a sorcerer, I’m familiar with curses.”