It’s okay—I know you’re not Superman.

I know because, thanks to my trusty radio, I heard Kolya draw his knife—and everything he did with it afterwards. It tore me apart, having to listen to that. I don’t blame you for any of it.

But you were right—to be honest, for a moment, I actually did kinda think you were. Because I knew you were gonna come up with an idea to save our asses. Which you did.

I know you’re not Superman—but you do a damn good job of pretending, sometimes.