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Summary
“Don’t give me that shit, Robby. Not to me.” Robby grit his teeth and looked to the side.
“Oh, so what? Why do I have to explain myself to you? You get this, you—” Robby sighed. “You’d think you might appreciate some gallows humor, after everything.”
“And you think if you keep joking about it I’m not going to act like it’s real,” Jack said. “But I know gallows and I know humor and I know what I’m seeing right now. Don’t give me shit, Robby.”
As the day shift winds down from the events of the Fourth, Jack notices an increasing pattern of disturbing behavior from Robby. He's well acquainted with the signs; too well acquainted. Something is wrong. And Jack is not losing Robby.
