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Despite the shotgun being pointed at her feet, Renee approached. Sam gripped the shotgun tighter. It was a slow advance and she didn't seem to be paying too much attention to him. It made him uncomfortable, though. She was an unknown quantity and he didn't know what she had planned. He backed away a little from the counter as she sat down, shot another glance at the door.

But he listened as she put her head down on the counter and began to talk. It helped that she put the gun down as she did so.

More deaths, more killers. Julia, Brian, Vivian, Cameo. They were all going to die, she said. He would have approached, maybe tried to comfort her with a pat on the back, but he couldn't do that. Not anymore.

Instead, Sam just said quietly, "It's fine. Let it out." If they were all going to die, he couldn't begrudge her that. He could listen. He was good at that, and keeping secrets. He had thought he was good at compromise; Richard had proved him wrong.

"As for my stay..." He exhaled slowly. "I saw Richard die. Saw Clair die. Not much more to it than that." Saying it hurt, as if it made their deaths irreparable, irrevocable. Over time, he'd come to regret even Richard's death. But they were dead, and nothing would change that.

As for Delilah, he wasn't sure that Renee would understand. Best to just let her keep talking.
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Program V3 Prologue:
Sylvia Veneski -- F32 -- Clothes Hanger -- Alive -- Someday We Won't Remember This

Auld Lang Syne
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While Rome Burns · The Saloon
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