Sarah releases a tiny laugh at the question.

It sounds like an old bell, like she hasn't used it much, and she hasn't. She wouldn't have minded if he kept asking. Sarah, more than anyone, understands gnawing on a bone. "My sixteen year old self was."

Or thought she would be. One or the other.

"I guess you can say by day I'm a detective, by night I'm a tortured artist. It's the 'tortured' bit that sells it."

Insert deadpanned expression here.