He stops walking. Way to be dramatic, Murdock. And not that it really matters, but I feel a little better when I set my hands on my hips, almost as though I'm confident, able to let the details slide off my back. (Far from the truth, I'll point out.) I pause, but somehow I feel like the longer the silence stretches on, the more obvious it becomes. And I'm not exactly about to lie. Not about this.

"You could say that I'm that way," I reply, tone wry.