"So he picked up a gun."
"He and I... we were really only a single step apart."
A hint of sorrow crept into Leo's eyes.
"I chose to pick up a ballot, to try and build a road through the quagmire. He chose to pick up a gun and blast the quagmire dry."
"Leo," Ethan said, "empathy won't save us."
"No matter how deserving of sympathy he is, he killed someone. That's a fact."
"If you choose to cover for him out of sympathy, you'll be dragging Pittsburgh's future down with him."
"Is it worth it?"
Leo closed his eyes.
'Is it worth it?'
It was a question a politician was always calculating, but could never truly solve.
Ethan looked at Leo's face, hidden in shadow. His lips moved, but in the end, he said nothing.
He knew that in the face of such a question, any rational political analysis seemed pale and insignificant.
This was a question about the weight of a soul.
"You should go."
Leo spoke, his voice hoarse.
"Let me be alone for a while."
