I could tell there was something new in my voice, a flatness that should have unnerved me. "I had to. It was my job." I holstered the pistol and got up, stepping away from the dead body. Ron knelt over Lavender, wracked with grief as he sobbed. He looked at me then, and his gaze held the weight of a man much older than Ron should have ever looked. His eyes were judging me, and I could tell his disgust was about more than killing Lavender in self-defense.