His attention flicks from the ambivalent empty space ahead back to Dan. The eyeshine adds extra force to the motion - it could either be like a sunset or the harsh glare of a laser scope with a waiting trigger. He might have found something caustic to respond with at the indirect advice floating there in between them, if he had more energy.

His empathy and ground-down tiredness win in the moment. He takes time to digest the words, at least, rather than having them bounce off. Dan was incredibly thoughtful and patient. Miguel didn't resent him for it, but he was unused to it.

"You've figured that out, at least." he says. "I think we might just be wired differently."

He can't imagine a future for himself where he just lets it go. Ever. And maybe that just makes him a worse person in that regard.