"If your Panem was built on the bones of North America, it might not have been that different at all," Darlington points out, relieved that it comes out more or less neutral, his tone as even as he can get it as they turn another corner and continue down another long hallway. He has so many questions he could ask, but today might not be the time; everything else is too fresh for them both.

"As for dangerous..." It's a question he's not sure how to answer. Lethe had worked with the New Haven police for years, the officers assigned as Centurion over the years taking on the job with no end of suspicion, but they never concerned themselves with petty thefts or ordinary assaults. Just the things that seemed unusual, the cases that carried some whiff of the supernatural--or that had come about as the direct result of a ritual gone wrong or a society overstepping its bounds. "It depends on the kind of danger you mean, I suppose. No city is entirely safe, but even the worst cities aren't entirely the hotbeds of crime the media makes them out to be."