The worst part of caring is when you do something wrong and you get to feel your heartstrings tugged by something as simple as falling shoulders. Daisy presses her lips together and steps back to sit on the edge of the couch.

"No. I didn't kill him. Didn't lay a hand on him except in self-defence. Even that was just a couple scratches. He—" she sighs, gestures loosely, "didn't like how much I knew about him. But he backed off, so I backed off."