Claire may speak with sureness and finality, but Wrench doubts it's so easy for her. Punishing a man who committed such a terrible act may be just, but reveling in his torture seems quite unlike her. Maybe they've all changed more than he's realized. Wrench casts another gaze over her as she explains the man's fate and tries to dismiss what was done with a disregarding shrug, but he's almost certain it still weighs heavily on her. If it does, that's a good thing. Better not to make killing so simple. Though even as he thinks it of her, something stirs deep inside of him and that nugget of regret threatens to make him defensive.

Perhaps that's why her question, though genuine, makes him return that dismissive shrug. Maybe I'm drawn to complication. The woman Claire saved deserves her second chance. No one could possibly think otherwise. Wrench hopes the opportunity to live free of her husband gives her the life she must have always hoped for herself.

Is there a point where people lose the chance to hope something better for themselves? The man Wrench is thinking of now, the one who lies in his early grave with no one to speak for him, was not always good. He may have brought many of his woes upon himself, and that made him an outcast among many of his peers. But the benefit of being as old as Wrench and Claire are now is the opportunity to see the full expanse of someone's life. The man Wrench is thinking of now was once no more than a child, and what opportunities had he had back then?

He shrugs again. You know what they call me, yes? "Guardian of the Condemned."