They didn't move for a while after that. The quiet had weight, but it wasn't heavy. It was the kind of quiet that lets a person think without being watched by their own thoughts.
The air in the room had settled into that calm that comes only after the truth's been spoken and accepted.
Elowen's words from earlier still hung there, faint and alive: The burn is honest, not proof. They both understood what that meant.
The house seemed to understand, too. Its quiet approval filled the corners.
The crystal wall shifted again, sliding to a new image—a narrow street near the Academy. One of Lilith's borrowed eyes.
The pane shimmered faintly before finding focus. A man passed by, slowing down just long enough to check his hair in the glass.
His reflection lagged half a second behind, like it was thinking for itself. It didn't quite match him, though he didn't notice. He kept walking, and the image steadied.
