[ (She couldn't have been. He checked. He obsessively stalked.

Thoughitwouldhavebeenbettercastingthan--)

Jim lets himself float a little, halfway tangled with her hands, looking up at the curious phosphorus canopy above the ethereal pool. ]

I don't mind that you've killed people. Or that you're good at it. I should mind, given what I do and where I'm from, but I've killed people, too. Just in different ways.