The fire in the fireplace shook for a second and fainted. Nightingale revealed herself, and put some firewood inside. Cracking sounds came from the fireplace and the flames suddenly rose up.
Roland looked at the stretched shadow of the cup and took a deep exhalation. Tilly had been away for some time, and he had been recalling their conversation to see if there was any way to change the result, but it ended up in vain - trust is very intriguing, and only by taking a lot of time can he earn someone's trust.
"It seems that you're not capable of everything," said Nightingale. She brushed off the dust on her hand and sat back at her usual place, "What on earth did you say to her that day?"
"A white lie." Roland leaned on the chair. "It's very normal that she doesn't believe it." He paused and said, "You said that you had a younger brother. If he suddenly becomes very different than he used to be, and keeps saying that he's still himself, will you believe him?"
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