"I'm sure." It wasn't my fault. I was only following orders. I had no choice. I didn't mean to. All the world's great mealymouthed excuses for which Una had very little patience. She stood up, glass in hand, and walked around her desk to stand closer to him—not as a threat, but a kind of sympathetic intimacy. She pulled back at her composure, keeping her tone soft now, almost kindly. "But you know what they say about good intentions, Rene. In the end, what you wished doesn't matter very much to most people. Only what you did."