[He doesn't answer. It's not really a conceding sort of silence, so much as he doesn't have anything else to say that he hasn't already.

But when confronted with the cell he'll be occupying for the next several days, he hesitates. It isn't fear; he's not afraid of prison, especially not here where he has nothing to lose, not even days off his life.

Something else.]

I've killed a lot of people, Chris. It's just a job. Like wrapping up a hamburger or ringing up groceries.

I thought... I've never had an investment in it past the money before. Bad business. But I thought this would be different.

I thought this would feel different.