Neal exhales heavily. “Yes. And before you start feeling guilty, being followed or watched or verbally jabbed at is only as intimidating as it is because people like Trevor burn down the chapel and can skate on a shrug and an ‘oops.’ I didn’t… I didn’t want to have to be on Lestat’s side. I really didn’t. You—you got hurt. You could have died if things went differently.”

He chews on his lip for a moment. “I thought you’d have people who pointed that out.”