[Huh, he almost says, but no, it makes sense it was in the paper . . . probably some one-paragraph bit about how the owner drunkenly set it himself or something, that just about fits Father's style. Greed exhales sharply, turning to slump against the wall and face Ling.]

He shot up my bar.

[A helpful little correction.]

Then he burned it. Stupid fuck didn't think we had a secret way out-- or maybe he did, but he sent others to do the job, so.

[A deep breath, and then:]

So think about it, Ling, if you'd been there that night. Think about what would've happened to you if you'd swung by to see me. If you weren't killed outright, think about what a guy like that would do if he found out I had someone like you in my bed.