"Really?"

Wash can tell, the more he pages through it: the paper and cover of the Bible are both well-worn, tiny creases marking the edges.

"Yeah, again, foreknowledge of any impending apocalypses'd be helpful, and why am I using the plural?" he mutters to himself. To Mal, "I wouldn't've pegged you for being...you know."

He shuts the book and hands it back.