"Yeah, good luck with that." Howard sinks back to the ground, though he still clutches the knife tight. He can't really believe the bit about traps when plenty of people here do have training.

"Look, Stephanie, I..." There's an expression on his face that's sad, yearning, almost. "I'm sorry. This is the way the game gets played."

Nothing makes him feel worse than feeling as if paranoia is akin to madness.