"I get that," Raylan said quietly with a nod. "I got this girl, down in Kentucky. Her daddy used to be a harmless pot farmer, drawin' disability and growing and sellin' on the side to help make ends meet. He was killed by another family for growin' without permission and took the girl into their care, hopin' to raise her as their own. She went with it for a while, thought they were tellin' her the truth about her Daddy bein' downstate doin' work for the family, until she found out they poisoned him, dropped him down a mine shaft and covered in lye.

She ended up levelin' a pistol at the head of the family, not that it did her much other than force her to realize that's not how dealin' with grief works. She's.." Raylan blew out a breath and huffed a brief smirk. "Still slingin' dope and playin' boys older than her like fiddles. But she's gonna be a hellva a lady if she can get on the right track."

It wasn't quite the same; Malcolm was inarguable good and Loretta was a product of Harlan, but they were kids and still young. Still able to avoid the worst mistakes that some of the rest of the adults around them had done a few times over.

"And if she called, I'd drop everything and fly out to her too."