She glanced over to where Malcolm slept, his face lacking the crease of anxiety he almost perpetually wore.

"He wants to take the blame," she said softly. ”He always wants to save other people instead of looking after himself." She looked at Raylan. "If he's convicted even of manslaughter, he'll never be able to work in law enforcement again. And I hate him working in law enforcement, but..." She sighed and glanced at him again. "He loves it. I can't let him throw it away over this. The kidnapper ordered me to stab Martin but... do you know he confessed that he took Malcolm on a camping trip when he was ten intending to kill him? My baby. His own child. Ten years old. I'd stab him again, given the chance," she spat.