Girl's eyes jes' 'bout well up. Oh, hell, hope she don't start bawlin'. Got 'nough waifs'n strays'a m'own wit'out adoptin'. Least she thinks 'bout what I tell'er. "I don't think either of those options would work for us. If you say the protections aren't likely to work at all then why have them? And I don't think we're going to leave town much as it might be the better solution." s'what she fin'lly says. "Thank you for explaining things to me, Syl."

Well, prob'ly th'first time I been thanked fer givin' somebody bad news. She's a polite li'l thin', no mistake. "Welcome." I says. "'d help ya if'n I could, honey, an'I really wish I could," more cuzzit'd mean't 'd have some kind d'fense 'gainst th'psycho monster'n cuzzi could help'er an'er kin, but I wish't jes' th'same. M'glass's empty, an'I signal th'barman. Order two whiskies; girl looks like she could use a stiff one. "This one's on me, since y'bought lunch," I says t'er azze brings'em over.