It's the smile that does it; the smile and the beckoning hand. And the fire between them, lest he forget what's behind that smile.

He's been here before.

Oh Sam, he mourns silently. Sam. Is this what he did to you?

Andrew closes his eyes again -- in grief, in despair, in cold sick fear -- and tries to speak. A whisper is all he can get out, and it takes him two attempts.



"No."