Keegan knows who you are.

His fingers traced your palms as you slept, his eyes scanned the words you'd scribbled down in your diary.

He knows the secrets you've been keeping; even the ones you never knew he was aware of.

That depression of yours had only seemed to get worse and worse, hadn't it?

"Tonight, we'll have a drink and talk this over," Keegan said gently, "just think about it all."