[This, at last, is enough to mollify him.]

[Slightly, anyway. It's logical enough. It still feels like he's missing something, but what she says convinces him that he's just . . . well, struggling to read her, as he ever does. The two of them are the same in that way, all smokescreens. So maybe he just read things wrong. And that's exactly why he came here in the first place: to figure out if he was reading things wrong.]

[So he breathes out slowly through his nose, shoulders relaxing slightly. Then he nods, although not quite in agreement.]

I could nitpick that. But I'll say instead that I understand your logic, although I disagree with it on many counts.

[That Diavolo was not patient. That Doppio is acting recklessly. That silence is not a good sign in the least, not from a man who lived in anonymity for decades. That is what worries him. But—]

I don't think it's inherently, wholly wrong. And I hope that you're right, frankly.

[When he tips his head this time, it's not with the intent to read her, to see her secrets. His expression is beseeching.]

I can't assume them to be a neutralized threat while they're still breathing. Do you understand why?