[ Reflexively, Amos shifts to prop himself up a bit better with his arms; immediately realizes what a poor idea that is from the slight change in elevation and lowers himself back against the cot, though at least he keeps his eyes open, his head turned in Emet-Selch's direction.

His brow furrows, slight frown on his face at the answer. ]

If she already knows she's gonna die then she probably didn't have a whole lot of reason to talk, huh. I tried that once. Held a screwdriver to a woman's neck and told her buddy if he didn't tell me what I needed to hear I'd kill her... except he didn't actually know the answer I needed, but at least that confirmed things.

[ A beat. ]

I guess she's got more motivation to keep her mouth shut though, assuming she knows things. Sorry you're tired.

[ It actually is a sincere apology, very much along the lines of that sucks. ]