"It's okay," Sam interrupts. "You--" He's still looking off to the side, into the night around them.

A pause.

"Whatever you said can't have been as bad as what I did to him, so."

His voice is carefully steady. Sam looks back at Andrew.

"He's gonna be mad, yeah. Probably for a while. A long while. Might get in your face about it, maybe be cold and hard, I don't know which. It all depends. But--"

He swallows.

"But ... "

Whatever he's trying to say, it looks as though he's not able to choke the words out.