Cash watched the other man, and none of the tension in his shoulders went out until Ari Fisk dropped his arm. Even still, his muscles stayed tense — because he remembered the yellow foam at the corners of Fisk's mouth, and his frigid skin, and the whispers of the constables. He still had to argue Fisk into staying alive, and he still didn't know how. He didn't know anything about the other man, really — big family, healer-maybe, decided to poison himself on the first February twenty-eighth.

"You want to die," Cash said, point-blank, still watching.