There was quiet, without intent. 

[i]What had they done to her?[/i]

A vague question, and Besca could only sit there and think. She thought about Hovvi, about the interview, and the feeling that something wasn’t quite right with Quinn even though they’d only just met. She thought about her questions when she’d woken up. Her panic, so much panic, so much fear and all of it made sense [i]viscerally[/i] but logically, emotionally…

She thought about Follen, and their talk in his office. He had known something that she had only just begun to piece together—a puzzle she was too afraid to complete. 

She was still too afraid. 

“[color=skyblue]They hurt you.[/color]”

Hands came to rest on Quinn’s cheeks, guided her head back down to meet Dahlia’s eyes. The girl knelt in front of her, holding her gently by the face, not firmly, but unyielding. She could not look away. 

“[color=skyblue]They lied to you,[/color]” Dahlia said. Her lips quivered, but with how still her face was, it was impossible to tell if it was the grief or the anger that touched her. Her eyes glistened, but no tears spilled. “[color=skyblue]And they hurt you.[/color]”

[color=black]They hurt us.[/color]

A chill bristled Quinn’s skin, not sharp, it was almost comfortable in fact. The hollowness that had enwrapped her cooled, eased into a pervading calm.

In the doorway a small figure stood, too shadowed to see much but the glinting of the metal horns on her head. She watched impassively, but Quinn could feel something radiating from her, touching her, or perhaps it was trying to escape from her own depths. 

Anger. It wanted her to feel [i]angry[/i]. But below that was something else, something…curious. Probing. It wanted to know why she was so [i]resistant[/i]. 

[color=black]It’s not fair. They locked us away. They hurt us.[/color]

“[color=skyblue]They can’t hurt you anymore. Quinn.[/color]” Dahlia sounded so sure. So certain. “[color=skyblue]We won’t let them.[/color]”

The shadow’s head turned down in thought. The light caught her, illuminating the barest hint of confusion on a strange face. 

Then in a blink she was gone. The chill went with her, and warmth found Quinn again. 

It was just the three of them. Dahlia before her, Besca besides, cleaning her up. Just them. Safe. That feeling came next, and it was foreign, but it was the first one to come to her as a suggestion, not a demand. An acquiescence. 

[color=black]Safe…[/color]