"Oh fucking hell." Malcolm glared for a second at Ana, almost as if he blamed her for his not realising this before, but reminded himself: not someone to be alienated or fucked with without ample ammunition. He rubbed his hand over his face and looked almost repentant. "Reckon she can read that, or should I take you off the fucking list?"

He went over to his journal to pull up the entry and edit it, continuing to talk as he did so. "They're all a fucking mess, best as I can tell. Reckon a lot of shit's flying around where we can't see it."