Of course he asked. I knew he would - he wouldn't be Gale if he didn't ask. My throat suddenly feels dry. I swallow painfully, balling my hands at my sides. They used to be slippery with his blood, but I scrubbed them clean hours ago. "You don't want to know," maybe it's better for the both of us if he didn't know. If Gale never dreamed of violence or even thought of the word bomb.

How am I supposed to tell him? I keep my eyes trained on him the whole time. I ask him not to push it.