[ The implication sits heavy in his gut, as if he’d swallowed lead. Part of him rankles with offense - why would he have followed her lead for the entirety of this grotesque game, putting his friendships and his own life at risk in the process, if her womanhood were the issue? That’s not it, it’s bigger and more pitiful than that, and so the larger part is shame. For what he’s done, and what he’ll keep doing, time and time again, more and more often, because his demand to be included can mean nothing else but knowing terrible things. ]

It wasn’t because you’re a woman, he wouldn’t have even told me if he thought he could clean it up quick enough on his own. [ Soft, like a plea, like a prayer he’ll be believed. ] It’s Hawk, he—He's stubborn, he insists on taking care of everything himself, no matter how dirty. He made me swear to keep quiet so that he could handle it on his own, so I did. I don’t...I don’t know how to say no to him. I try and I try, but it never sticks, and I make these ugly compromises that hurt people, only to have to be the one to put Danny away anyway--

[ Tim’s breath quickens, and so he stops, wipes his eyes, breathes in slowly to calm himself down. It hardly helps. If the version of himself from a year ago could see him now, he’d be sick. It wasn’t that long ago that the damning latter which cleared Mary but outed Caroline, written with Hawk’s word but Tim’s hand, had been the ugliest thing he’d ever done. How many times has he topped that in the last month alone? Keeping Embry’s murder a secret, outing Alia, bartering lives with Bella and Alina. It keeps him up at night later than the pain from his attack or the fear for his life. The fear for his soul is far greater. What will be left of it, when this game is through? ]

It was my own weakness keeping me quiet. That's all. And I’ll be sorry for it until God sees fit to remove me from this place.