[That pretty much covers it, in Molly's eyes. All a farce and he can't tell what anyone at all was thinking. it's too much information, too much to live with in this moment. What do you do with everything?
[The answer Childe would have to give to that question (what do you do with everything?) is not one Molly would want to hear, right now or possibly ever. Fortunately, Childe's aware of that--and aware that, in truth, there is no good answer for him to give.
So he reaches out, putting a hand on Molly's shoulder.]
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[Childe never really sounds disingenuous, but there's something a little more honest in his voice, at that.
He's quiet for a minute.]
I didn't vote for her. For what it's worth. [Which isn't much now, and it's not like it fixes anything, but. Still.]
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No one had to vote at all.
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You're right. [Because Molly is! He won't pretend otherwise.] I don't know what they were thinking.
[...Well, okay, he does, probably. But it was short-sighted, in his opinion. Playing by the rules isn't his style unless he has good reason to do so.]
It's all a farce.
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It's all a bit too heavy, unreal still.]
So what now?
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So he reaches out, putting a hand on Molly's shoulder.]
Now, we keep searching for answers.