Maybe she's looking at names and drawing her own conclusions from them. It doesn't really matter. He made her a liability when he first told her what he did. All he knows is that he has to keep an eye out.

"I'm fine," he says, two words that are the patented anti-guarantee of someone's fine-ness. It's unconvincing, and he knows it. He turns around, leans against his desk, and rubs at the purple ring of bruises around his throat.

"Just tired. Things got weird back home."

By which he means, Jay stuck his goddamn neck where it wasn't wanted and ruined everything, and now Alex has to fix it. Again. He's really tired of fixing Jay's shit. He thought he took care of Jay but - apparently not. Apparently not.