[Sonya shrugs. The part that she's leaving out is that she kept with him. That she stayed with him even when he moved uptown. That she was with him when the enemies he'd made inside caught up with him on the outside. That she'd held his hand when he'd died, and still had the shirt with his blood on it, balled up in the back of her dresser drawer.

That's what she keeps close. Pendar, and her love for God, and her fears. These are things that are hers, and sometimes her family's, and for no one else. Not even for people she likes.]

Pendar made his choices. Pinkman makes his. Someone's dealt a bad hand, you want to see if you can shuffle the cards around a little, that's fine. But you set fire to the gambling-hall in an attempt to get them out of that bad hand, and you're in the shit for arson at best, more likely a charred corpse.