"Maybe," he grunts, but the tone says no. It's not like that. It's not having someone on the inside, not like this. Best case it's one turn deserving another.

But that's nothing new, knowing what they've got to do. It's not about them, not anymore, much as he wants to crawl back into the comfort of family. You can't do that. Can't just turn away, not anymore, cause that's buying into it.

(If he could know, if he could be sure he was out clean, maybe he wouldn't feel so goddamn haunted.)

He wants to scrub at his face with his hands, suppresses the urge. It's too telling.