"I don't want to hurt you," Tillman stated, eyes narrowed as he examined the burlap. The last time he'd seen a bag like that, it was in Iran. The memories were unpleasant, to say the least. He dismissed the thought and looked Crane in the eye once more.

"I don't want any trouble." He wasn't in a position to make demands. Requests would be stretching his luck. This was why he didn't talk much. Truthfully, he'd said more to Crane than he had in weeks. He pressed on calmly, voice low. "I don't know what you think you can do for me, but I'm five sessions away from freedom. I don't need your help."