He can't form a cohesive picture out of the disjointed fragments of Chris's rambling, and he worries that asking any questions would be like prodding at an open wound. Death is a hard subject for Wilhelm too. It's a live coal sliding down his throat. It's a scalpel peeling away skin and muscle to lodge inside his softest parts.

Inevitably, if he lingers too long on death, it all comes back to his brother, whom he'll be grieving for the rest of his life. And now it'll come back to Kell too, whose fate he would never get to know for certain.

Altogether, Chris is doing a shitty job of cheering him up. After a long pause, Wilhelm heaves a sigh and sits up.

"Let's go for a drive. Come on."

Scraping himself off the grass, he offers a hand to the other guy.