(Or: The International Criminal Court of Casual Conversation Is Now in Session and You’re the Only Defendant) You had a conversation. A perfectly ordinary conversation. There were words. Someone laughed. You laughed. Nobody called security. By all available evidence, civilization survived. Six hours later, you’re in bed conducting a forensic investigation. Why did she pause before answering? Was that laugh genuine? Did I sound arrogant when I said I liked my job? And why, for the love of all functioning frontal lobes, did I say interesting in that particular tone? Your jaw is clenching. Your chest is doing something you’d rather not examine. Your stomach has decided to hold a…