#trinity s.

"Heard that." Yvonne nods with the sagacity of a bartender more advanced in her career. It feels good to be good at something, even if it's just pretending to know what someone else is going through because you've seen it all before. Doctor Santos' badge gives Yvonne an inferiority complex.

"Gets lonely, though, doesn't it?" Yvonne mentally meanders. She pretends to ponder something profound.

MARGOT'S GOT NO REASON TO TAKE THAT PERSONALLY. She's cautious, mindful—but she isn't paranoid. Being hostile to Doctor Santos would create a problem where one does't have to exist.

"If you're speaking from personal experience—whatever you endured to develop that perspective, I'm sorry. I am."

Doctor Santos is right, though. The Organization is proof of it. Margot herself might be, too.

"What happened in there?" Margot's gaze wanders over Doctor Santos' shoulder. People filter in and out of the ER entrance. She can't see the ambulance bay from here. She's privately relieved.

ACTUALLY?

"No."

Cain can't keep doing this. He can't show up at these stupid bars, with their stupid health code violations and their deplorable beer selections. He can't keep ordering whiskey that forces his stomach to churn. He can't keep starting conversations with sad young women he doesn't want to have in the first place, let alone finish.

But he does it. He does it for Kieran.

Actually, actually?

Yes.

She is boring him.