Malcolm held his gaze for a moment, then leaned close, like he was telling a secret.

"Because I choose it," he murmured. "That's how I know it's your choice, too."

He straightened up. "You know what the worst part was? As soon as I got back to work, my boss and my mother conspired to make me take a vacation. Like I hadn't been off work for long enough already. It's been suggested that hunting murderers is somehow an unhealthy coping mechanism but... I don't know. It makes me feel normal, contributing to something good with the things I'm good at."