[ His voice has gone low under the building noise of the crows. There are so many of them they black out the sky. ]

That assumes we're at a crossroads, right? But how can I be anyone else while they're here?

[ There's a note of frustration to it; he reaches up to rub at his eyes, and it breaks the intensity in his face. He huffs a sigh into his palm. When he lifts his face away to look at her again, he's put the fury somewhere out of sight: now there's only a dull exhaustion left. ]

I'm not game to start over. I've got nothing but unfinished business. [ His mouth twists, wry. ] Maybe that's why they love showing me ghosts.