all that's left could be ghosts, but you'd haunt me most

[ovations]

Comments

[cuffit]

[ Reassurance doesn't always work as intended, Wriothesley knows--but an unknowable pang of something flits momentarily in his chest as Lyney backs off. Maybe he's said too much, or too little, or maybe it's simple unease that reasserts itself between them. Whatever it is, the boy is done with this conversation. Wriothesley won't keep him.

He straightens his tie, nodding small. ]

...Take care on your way back.