"I see where Sucecq gets it now," he mutters, in that 'under-my-breath-but-still-loud-enough-I-obviously-want-you-to-hear-it' kind of voice. "To be fair, though, you didn't seek me out. I've been the one pestering you during a moment of rest."

With a resigned sigh, Terrence rises from his seat to right the table again, assembling the fragments of cup and saucer on top. Included is two-thousand dollars, pinned beneath to stop a breeze from carrying the cash away.

"Any advice before I leave you be?"