[LanaLynch]

Turn Me to Ashes

Author's Note: I'm a fan of the AMC program. I have not read the comic, so I request that all the hardcore comic fans forgive a chick. This is unashamedly a Governor/Andrea fic. It is also a work-in-progress and will likely include R or NC-17 content in later chapters. Do your worst.



CHAPTER 1

“Never.”

Andrea watched him as he walked away, his broad shoulders moving slightly with the confident swing of his arms. She couldn’t quite figure the head of this small settlement out. Unlike Michonne, though, she wasn’t eager to cut and run when--for the first time in months--she was able to walk openly down a street without watching her back for walkers.

“I don’t trust him,” Michonne said.

Turning, Andrea found her good friend standing behind her, watching the retreating back of the Governor. “He’s different,” she agreed, “but he’s got all these people dependent on him.”

Michonne shook her head twice. “We should all be armed. Only arming these few men isn’t right.”

Andrea shrugged, but nodded her agreement. “Maybe the others don’t want to fight like we do. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Maybe get our weapons back. We could help watch the walls.”

“We could leave.”

“Do you really want to do that?” she said, tilting her head and shading her eyes from the setting sun.

The Governor reached the building at the far end of the street and turned to cast a glance their direction before he opened the door and entered.

“I do,” Michonne replied, turning on her heel and walking over to the makeshift wall of tires to peer through at the forest beyond.

------------------------------------

Andrea woke to the soft sound of pans clattering from a distance. Michonne was sitting in the rocking chair by the window, paging through one of the old books they found stashed in boxes in the closet of their shared room.

“Going down for breakfast?” she asked after her eyes adjusted to the morning sunlight filtering through the sheer, white curtains.

Michonne indicated her disapproval with one stern shake of her head.

Andrea sighed and sat up in bed. “At least try to make the best of the situation. He’s given us food and shelter. We’ve spent the last few months on the run and on the verge of death.”

When Michonne didn’t reply, Andrea slipped her feet onto the floor and padded into the bathroom to wash her face and tame her hair. When she had dressed herself in an old blouse and a pair of jeans, she left her friend by the window and slipped down the steps. One of the Governor’s men was standing watch down the hall at the top of the staircase and she gave him a curt nod as she passed. He didn’t return it.

“Good morning,” Andrea said as she entered the kitchen and sat down across from the man of the house.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” The Governor replied as he placed his fork on his plate and motioned for the woman at the stove to bring a plate of food for Andrea.

“I did. We appreciate your hospitality.”

“It’s nothing. We’ll get you set up with your own place across the street. Two bedroom work okay for you and your friend?”

Andrea looked down at the plate of food the woman placed in front of her. Scrambled eggs and potatoes were piled in a heap in the middle of the plate. Three long slices of zucchini were laid along the side. “We’re not sure if we’re staying,” she said, digging into the eggs.

He lifted his eyes from his plate and rested his steady gaze on Andrea. “Lots of trouble out there.”

“We’d feel more comfortable with our weapons.”

The Governor shifted in his seat. “You’re safe here. I run a tight ship.” After a short silence with only the sound of Andrea’s fork scraping her plate, he continued, “But if you’ve made up your mind, we’ll give you some provisions--food, water, a vehicle, your weapons. Wouldn’t want to see you and your friend get hurt.”

Andrea looked up to meet his eyes and saw a flicker of concern in their depths. “We can help your men patrol the walls if you give us our weapons back. You’re asking us to trust you, but you need to trust us too. We want to survive just like everyone else here in Woodbury. And we know what it’s like out there.”

He leaned back in his chair and pushed his nearly empty plate away. The woman hovering over the stove was gone, leaving Andrea alone with him. After a long moment of silent contemplation, he laced his fingers together behind his head and watched her with eyes that she couldn’t quite read. The fabric of his vest stretched over his chest and bunched up on his shoulders.

“You’re a good shot, then?”

She shrugged. “I’m still alive, so I’m good enough.”

The Governor’s lips twitched as the corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smirk. It made Andrea smile when she caught his eye again. “I reckon you’re just as good as any of my men out there.”

He was playing with her, teasing her. “You want me to prove it, then give me my gun,” she said.

“Finish your breakfast and then take a walk with me,” he replied.

-------------------------------------

They were standing atop a wall along the east side of town. There were two men along the wall within site of them, but they were yards away, out of hearing distance. Beyond that, their attention was focused outward, scanning the low brush across the field.

The Governor had selected a large gun from his personal stash in his house before they left for the wall. Andrea was a good shot, but she wasn’t familiar with anything beyond her revolver. His gun was intimidating and it was held comfortably in his right hand.

“Let’s see what you got,” the Governor said, offering the rifle to her. He presented the butt and grip of the gun to her. Andrea hesitated. “Go on,” he urged.

Stealing herself, Andrea took the semi-automatic rifle in both her heads. Unlike the revolver that she had grown accustomed to, it felt awkward and bulky. Despite trying to play it cool, she knew he immediately saw that she didn’t know how to handle the weapon.

A high, sharp whistle from their left, startled Andrea. When she looked in that direction, she saw the man stationed on the wall with his arm in the air. He dropped it down and pointed to the tree line. Just a few feet into the grubby clearing were two walkers spaced about four or five yards apart, slowly making their way toward the wall. She wondered if they could smell the people of Woodbury by the way they struggled to hurry across the ground toward the six-foot wall of tires and wood and metal.

The Governor lifted his arm and turned to face the man to their left and then the one to their right. “Think you can take them?” he asked, turning his gaze back to her and the rifle held so awkwardly in her hands.

“Sure,” Andrea replied, lifting the rifle up to look down the sight. She was bluffing and it was pretty obvious he was aware of that.

Just a moment before she slid her finger over the trigger, she heard him say, “Brace the butt of the gun against your shoulder. The recoil is stronger than that Beretta you’ve been carrying around.”

Andrea decided to suppress her pride and follow his instructions. She readjusted her grip on the rifle and did as he had told her.

“Lean into the shot, not backward. You’ll fall off the wall as soon as you pull the trigger.” He stepped around behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her upper body forward slightly.

“I know what I’m doing,” she said even though she was allowing him to move her body into a better position.

The Governor smiled as he moved his hands down her arms and bent her arms to the proper angles His chest was brushing against her back and Andrea began to think about how attractive he was instead about the two zombies coming toward them and covering ground quickly.

“Doesn’t that feel better?” he said in her ear. His soft breath rustled the stray hairs that had escaped her ponytail. “Always lean into the shot and be ready to absorb the recoil. Now take a breath, hold it, line up your sights, and pull the trigger real soft.” His hands were on her bare arms and she could still feel his body pressing into hers from behind. It put her nerves on edge.

“I got it,” she told him. Slowly, he pulled away and stepped up to stand beside her.

Andrea did as he instructed and held her breath right before she pulled the trigger. The bullet hit one of the walkers in the chest, making it stumble back a few feet.

“Shit,” she muttered, aiming the rifle at the other walker. This time the round went through the neck of the walker and knocking it over.

The Governor sensed her frustration. “Take your time,” he told her.

The third shot hit one of the walkers in the head. It crumpled into a motionless heap in the field as it’s cohort continued on with half it’s neck missing. Within a few seconds, she had taken it out and left both of them finally and completely dead in the deceptively serene field beyond the town’s wall.

His hands closed over the barrel of the gun, gently taking it from her grasp. “Good job,” he said, sliding the strap of the rifle over his shoulder.

“I’ve never shot a rifle before,” Andrea admitted.

“I know,” he replied. “You’re a natural.”

His compliment felt good. She looked at him and smiled. “Thanks.” Shifting her weight from one foot to another, she said, “So, you think I can join the boys club? Maybe help patrol? Get my gun back?”

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smirk. “Maybe.” He turned and took the steps down from the wall without watching to see if she’d follow.

...to be continued...

[the Walkin Dude]

Not a big fan of the Andrea, Governor thing at all, definitely side with Michonne,but like your writing, keep it coming.

[LanaLynch]

CHAPTER 2

Michonne spent most days walking the perimeters of the town like a caged animal. Andrea didn’t feel nearly so trapped. Not having to deal with the constant fear of being ambushed by walkers was worth whatever freedom they gave up by staying in Woodbury.

“Sore?”

Andrea jumped when she heard the Governor’s voice just behind her. She didn’t even realize she had been standing on his porch, massaging her shoulder. “My shoulder feels stiff,” she told him.

“The recoil on the rifle you shot yesterday will do that.” His hand slipped over her shoulder, causing Andrea to jump. Her stomach flopped over as he squeezed and released the muscles that joined her shoulder and neck.

When he squeezed again, she closed her eyes and tilted her head away to give him better access. “That feels good,” she said.

He didn’t reply, but continued to massage the stiff muscles, loosening the tension with his strong hand.

After a few seconds, he slowly pulled away. “We’ve set you and you friend up with a two bedroom a block down the street. Right above the hardware store. I’ll have my men move your things.”

“Feeling confident we’ll stay?” Andrea asked.

“Hopeful,” he replied. “I’d hate to see you get hurt out there. Nothing but creepers outside these walls and you know it.”

Andrea nodded her head as she watched Michonne in the distance walk by the front gate, peering between the tires to see the road beyond. “We know it all too well. It’d be easier to talk Michonne into staying if you gave us our weapons back, you know.”

“I know,” was his only reply before he stepped off the porch and whistled to one of his men, instructing him to help Andrea move her things.

---------------------------------------

Michonne was standing by the window, carefully judging the weight of her katana by swinging it through the air in wide arcs. To both her and Andrea’s surprise, their weapons had been placed on the kitchen table of the small two-bedroom apartment before they arrived.

“He doesn’t seem unreasonable. He gave us our weapons back,” Andrea told her friend.

“I don’t trust him,” Michonne replied.

“Me neither. Not completely. But he deserves a chance. He’s given all these people a safe place to live.”

Two sharp knocks on the door made them both jump. Andrea carefully walked over and cracked it open to reveal the Governor standing outside, one hand resting casually on the knife at his hip. She opened the door the rest of the way and invited him inside.

“Thank you for returning out weapons,” Andrea said.

His boots made a thump with each step he took across the hardwood floor of the living room. “My pleasure,” the Governor replied, turning his back on Michonne to face Andrea. “Wouldn’t want to lose such a good shot because she didn’t have a gun.” She watched his hand readjust the belt riding low on his hips. “You and your friend are invited to dinner at my house.”

Andrea looked over his shoulder to see Michonne scowl. Obviously she wasn’t on board with dinner, but Andrea wanted to pick the Governor of Woodbury’s brain a little more. “What time?” she asked.

“Dusk.” He gave her a slight nod of his head before walking back out the door and down the hallway.

-------------------------------------

They had pasta with a rich, thick red sauce for dinner. The Governor’s food rationing was generous, but not excessively so. They only had a cup of pasta each with a hunk of freshly-made bread on the side. Michonne had refuse to attend, which came as no surprise to Andrea or the Governor.

His dining room was lit with several tapered candles placed a foot apart on the table. The glare from them bounced off the glossy tabletop and illuminated the room even more. The Governor was at his seat at the head of the table with Andrea to his immediate right. They made quiet small talk as they ate and Andrea reveled in the normalcy of the scene--eating a quiet dinner by candlelight with an interesting man in a house with no walkers in sight.

His soft timbre was relaxing and he seemed genuinely interested to hear about how she survived after the walkers arrived. Her life seemed cut into segments now--before the epidemic, with Dale and the others, with Michonne, and at Woodbury. She wished her sister could have made it to this little settlement, but those wishes were going nowhere.

Conversation lulled into a comfortable moment of silence. Andrea took the time to watch the Governor’s profile as he carefully speared the last two pieces of penne pasta with his fork and placed them in his mouth. He licked his lips once before lifting a cloth napkin to his face. When he raised his eyes to catch her watching him, she quickly dropped her gaze and finished the food on her plate.

“You like my cooking?”

“Your cooking?” Andrea asked, wiping her own mouth with a napkin.

“I’m not much in the kitchen, but I made the sauce from scratch,” he replied.

“You cooked? I thought Ella made all your meals.” Ella, a homely woman in her 50s, lived two buildings down, but walked over each day to cook at least two meals for the Governor and his men who were around. She said it was her way of contributing to the safety of Woodbury.

He gave her a small smile and pushed back his seat before picking up their empty plates. “A man has to be able to fend for himself sometimes.”

Andrea stood and followed him into the kitchen. “It was delicious. Thank you for dinner.”

The dishes made a soft clink he sat them down on the counter. She watched his back as he lifted a hand to open one of the high cabinets to the right of the sink.

“You’re welcome.” He twisted to look at her. She couldn’t make out his expression in the dim kitchen with only two small candles to provide light. “You strike me as a whiskey kind of woman.”

“Excuse me?” Andrea asked, taking a step toward him as he produced a half-full bottle of Johnnie Walker from the cabinet. She chuckled when she saw the liquor. “I haven’t had a drink in forever.”

“No better time than now,” he said, sliding two tumblers off the kitchen counter and striding past her into the dining room.

Andrea followed him and casually leaned her hip against the dining table as he opened the bottle and poured a healthy dose of scotch into each glass. “What’s the special occasion?”

“A good dinner with a smart woman who can shoot a gun.” The Governor handed her a tumbler of scotch. The aroma was delicious, especially after the past few months she’d had, running from walkers and hiding in holes.

She laughed lightly as she took the glass and clinked it softly against his in a toast. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re hitting on me.”

They both took a sip of the alcohol. Andrea savored the flavors as the liquid passed over her tongue and down her throat, burning as it went. They drank in silence, enjoying the decadent after-dinner treat. His body was only a couple feet from hers, half of his face shrouded in shadows and the other half illuminated by the soft candlelight. The alcohol and the intimate setting with an attractive man within reach was setting her body to buzzing.

“Mmm, so I was right; you *are* a whiskey kind of woman,” he said, watching her finish the last bit in her glass before he knocked the rest of his back.

Andrea smiled as he poured a little more into both their tumblers. “Don’t be so smug. I deserve a drink after the last few months.”

“That you do,” he replied, clinking his glass against hers. “Enjoy.”

Her legs felt a little weak and the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders had started to relax. The alcohol was doing its work and she was feeling slightly braver as she finished off the glass and sat it down on the table. He immediately splashed some more scotch into it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk, Governor?”

He smiled and lifted his eyes up to look at her. “Only a little, Andrea.”

“It’s working,” she conceded, picking the glass up again. He poured some more for himself and watched her. His gaze made her feel slightly uncomfortable and more than a little hot under the collar. He was still wearing the vest that she never saw him take off, but the zipper was halfway down and gleaming in the candlelight. Her hand twitched at the thought of reaching out and unzipping it the rest of the way.

“What’re you thinking about?” His question knocked her out of her fantasy and she realized she had been staring at his chest.

“You. This delicious scotch.” Andrea felt light-headed. It wasn’t just the alcohol, but the nearness of him. She needed to make her exit before she did something stupid. She quickly knocked back the rest of the liquor in her glass and sat it on the table. “No,” she said, putting her hand over the top of the tumbler when he tried to refill it.

“Calling it a night?” he asked. She was staring at his chest again. Andrea dragged her gaze up to look him in the face. His eyes were dark and watching her intently.

She nodded and made a move to walk past him. The Governor’s hand shot out and gently took her arm. “Let me walk you home,” he whispered in her ear.

“I’m a big girl. And it’s only a few yards down the street.”

“I’m a gentleman. And it’s past curfew.”

Andrea looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner and saw that it was well after nine o’clock. Curfew was eight o’clock in the evening during the spring and summer. The fall and winter brought a six o’clock curfew.

“We’re breaking the rules, Governor,” she chuckled, letting him lead her toward the door.

He leaned into her and whispered in her ear, “They’re my rules so I’m allowed to break them.” His warm breath on her ear and neck combined with the alcohol made her giddy and flushed.

They walked down the empty street lit only by torches. His hand was still on her arm and his body was close enough that she felt every stride he made. Before she was ready to let him go for the night, they were outside the doorway that lead up to the second floor apartment she shared with Michonne.

“Thank you for dinner. It was delicious,” she said, turning to face him.

He released her arm and gave her a polite nod. “Anytime.”

A silent moment stretched between them, the tension thick in the air. He was inches away and his lips were just barely parted. Andrea reeled at the thought of kissing him.

The muted crack of a gun with a silencer attached shattered the intimate moment. The Governor’s eyes were on the front gate and the two men atop the wall.

“Goodnight,” said softly with a nod of his head in her direction.

Andrea wrapped her arms around herself. “Goodnight,” she replied before opening the door and slipping inside.

[LanaLynch]

CHAPTER 3

Michonne traced the edge of a bullet hole with her index finger. Andrea stood a few feet away with her hands on her hips.

“They were military. Of course the trucks would have bullet holes,” she said.

Michonne stalked around the side of the vehicle and approached Andrea. “There was fresh blood in the back of it the day after.”

“They were attacked by walkers,” Andrea replied. “There was probably a whole lot of blood when the guys found them.”

“I don’t buy it. And I don’t trust him.”

“He’s been nothing but nice to us, and no one here has said one bad word about him.”

“All the more reason not to trust him,” Michonne hissed, turning on her heel and walking away.

Andrea jogged after her. “Michonne, come on. We’ve been out there so long that we’re paranoid about everything and everyone. I think this is a good place, though.”

“Two days. I’m leaving with or without you.”

“Michonne...” Andrea trailed off as her friend strode briskly down the sidewalk.

--------------------------

Andrea has spent the morning helping one of the women move some furniture out of an old house and into an upper floor apartment that was more secure. A bottle of water in her hand, she went searching for the enigmatic Governor who she has shared a drink with less than twenty-four hours ago. She found him easily enough, standing at the rear gate with his hands on his hips. A man was sitting off to the side on a folding chair, cleaning a pistol.

She climbed the four steps up to the wall and approached the Governor. “Busy thinking?” she asked.

He looked at her and then back at the two zombies, shuffling slowly forward down a street littered with debris. “They keep coming,” he replied. “We need to figure out how to stop them or keep them away.”

“Good luck with that,” Andrea said. “The CDC didn’t even know how.”

The Governor ran a hand roughly through his hair and turned his back on the lumbering pair. Andrea took the opportunity to ask him about the bullet holes in the army trucks they had brought back to Woodbury. Despite dismissing Michonne’s suspicions as unfounded, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

“So, those military trucks--they have bullet holes in them. I hope walkers haven’t learned to shoot.”

“We’d sure be in trouble then,” he replied. “The holes must have already been there. The pilot told us they had escaped some chaos at their base when the biters ran them over.”

“And all the blood?” she asked, leaning her hip against the upper railing of the wall.

The Governor tilted his head in question. “What’s with the questions, officer? Am I under arrest?”

Andrea laughed, but his response made her stomach sour. Maybe there was something to Michonne’s paranoia. “Just asking. I’ve spent the last few months distrusting pretty much everyone, alive or dead.”

“They were in bad shape when we got there. Some of the bodies were still on the vehicles and we had to drag them off. I’m not surprised there’s blood.”

She squinted as the sun dropped below a cloud and shown in her eyes. Shading them, she looked at him and tried to weigh if he was telling her the truth or hiding something. He had done such an amazing job with Woodbury and all of the people there had nothing but praise for him. What was there to hide?

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have questioned it. What you said makes complete sense and I’m just being paranoid.”

He waved away her apology. “No harm done. We all got to look out for number one.” The Governor casually rested his hands on his hips. “You up for some work tomorrow?”

“Watching the wall?”

“Helping extend the gate and wall out a few more yards that direction.” He pointed down the empty street. “We could use a sharp shooter watching our backs while we move the gate.”

Andrea nodded. She was eager to do something with herself other than walk around the tiny settlement and argue with Michonne about when they should leave.

“Tell your friend to come along and bring her sword if she’s looking for something to do.”


------------------------------

Andrea was standing in the middle of the street, turing in slow circles. She had seen two walkers since they had been outside, cleaning the debris and moving the gate so they could build portions of the wall around some of the buildings.

They weren’t being too ambitious; just two small buildings on either side were being pulled in: an old drug store, an antique shop, and two lawyers’ offices on the other side of the street. All of them had a second and third story which Andrea assumed were likely apartments or office space that could be converted into apartments. Since she and Michonne had arrived, two more people had found their way to Woodbury and they would soon need more space.

Michonne had come along for the excursion, but she wasn’t extremely happy about it. She had taken off down the street on her own. Andrea bit her tongue because Michonne was headstrong and would do what she wanted. And it was no secret that the woman was probably the best-equipped of anyone in the town to protect herself against any walker that appeared.

The makeshift gate had been move out and the handful of men were filling in the smaller holes below the bed of the tractor trailer with tires and bags of sand.

“Go on back and load up the truck. We’ll keep a watch,” the Governor told his men. They headed back into the settlement through an open space in the wall to get more sand bags. Those were needed to keep the smaller walkers from crawling through. Andrea shuddered at the thought of the little children who had turned. Sweet Sophia immediately came to mind.

“Let’s pull back toward the gate,” he told her, motioning toward the opening. “Don’t want to be out here with only two people. They can overrun you fast.”

Andrea backed toward the opening, keeping her gun at the ready. “Michonne is out there.”

“Yep. We’ll make sure she gets back in, but we need to protect this opening until Jim gets back with the truck.”

She took up a spot beside him, marveling at how calm he was in the middle of this chaos that had taken over the world. One hand was casually resting on the hilt of the knife strapped to his belt, his other hand was holding an assault rifle laid against his leg.

They stood in silence for several long minutes, watching the wind blow old fast food wrappers across the street in front of them. “World sure has changed,” Andrea said, more to herself than to the man beside her.

“Mmm, hmm,” he replied. “We’ll rebuild it, though.”

She smiled at him. “You sound confident.”

“I am.” He looked at her with a gleam in his eye. It made her uncomfortable and sure that she wanted to be on no one’s side but his. He looked like a bad man to cross at that moment.

“Well, you’ve made a good start here.” She waved her hand back toward the settlement.

He nodded out toward the wilderness filled with empty houses, deserted streets, and lurking walkers. “We’ll take the end of this street before the summer ends and then start moving out into the fields for more fertile farmland.”

Andrea looked at him with disbelief and a bit of wonder. “You seriously think you can protect that large of a perimeter.”

“Sure. These men will do what I tell them. They know it’s this or death out there on their own.”

His answer knocked Andrea back on her heels. His eyes were determined and dark and filled with the knowledge that he held many different lives in his hands. And he rather enjoyed that power. Her mind went back to the bullet holes in the army trucks and the armed men who used to stand outside her door when she and Michonne first arrived.

A rustling in an alley off to their left caused her eyes to leave his face and look for the potential danger creeping toward them. “What’s that?” she whispered as he moved toward the mouth of the shaded alley.

He stood silently for a moment, looking down between the two buildings, his gun up at the ready. Finally he replied, “A raccoon. Got in a dumpster back here.”

“Oh.” Andrea felt relief run through her limbs at the good news right as she saw the walker appear from the doorway of the building. She opened her mouth to yell a warning, but nothing came out.

The thing that had once been a man, probably in his 30s, took a step and then another. It’s hands reached out for the Governor, fingertips only an inch from touching the back of his neck.

The Governor turned his head and smiled at her. “Easy pickings out here for coons and possums.” The smiled dropped when he saw Andrea raise her gun.

The walker lurched another step forward and locked its fingers around the collar of the Governor’s vest. At the same moment, Andrea pulled the trigger.

What had once been a man dropped to the ground with a sick thud just as the Governor turned around completely to see what she’d shot. The Governor’s face was pale and shocked, eyes wide and glassy.

Andrea lowered her weapon. “It came out of the building there. I didn’t have time to warn you.”

The Governor toed the walker with the tip of his boot before backing toward the gate, away from the building and alley. “Mighty fine shooting,” he said under his breath. Andrea could see that he was shaken up; she would have been too if she’d been in his shoes. “I’d be gone if it weren’t for you.”

“It’s nothing,” she shrugged.

“I appreciate it all the same.”

Michonne emerged from a parking lot down the street and started making her way toward them. When she covered the distance, she sheathed her katana and stood beside Andrea. “Walker?” she asked.

Andrea nodded toward the one on the ground. “Close call,” she told Michonne before shifting her eyes to the Governor.

“Hmm, shame,” Michonne replied, slipping into the entrance to Woodbury.

The Governor shifted his weight from one foot to another. His color was quickly returning and he didn’t look quite so shocked or out-of-sorts. “Your friend doesn’t seem to like me all that much,” he said.

Andrea shook her head. “She’s not a people person.”

He smiled at her, but the smile was empty. “You don’t say.”