"...Not enough to kill a person, if that's what you're asking," Detrian fixed a cold smile, but soon it dropped. "And it's just what?" he pressed on. "I am quite sure I can take 'complicated'. I'd rather be aware of anything that may influence your work here and, therefore, me."
Datrian slowly stood up as he spoke and went around the desk to lean against it. Crossing his arms on his chest, he fixed his gaze on Isabel, urging her to speak up.