Oliver nodded to Owen, then shifted toward the end of the bed so he could focus in on Marco. "Hey, bug. You remember the day we had that conversation on the road into town? How gray things worked to keep that sorta thing out? That's why whatever it is has such a hard time gettin' in here?" He poked a finger at his own salt and pepper temple. "Try makin' a hood outta your sheer and think about the color, okay? Can't hurt to try."
Looking back to Owen, he added. "He might try, but you gotta figure Simms is gonna have him in a tight leash startin' out at least. I don't want him puttin' himself in a situation he can't get out of. Even if he's not ripplin' the water, best to have him where he is."