The question lingered in the candlelit air:
"…what must be done so our faith does not collapse?"
Orthran's voice still trembled, as if he feared the answer more than the truth itself.
Charlotte lowered her gaze.
Noel felt her thigh tense under his hand — a quiet warning he had learned to recognize. Something inside her was shifting. Something she hadn't planned to say.
He leaned closer, whispering barely above breath.
"Charlotte… stick to the plan," he murmured. "We only tell fragments. Nothing more."
She didn't nod, breathe or blink.
Instead, she whispered back — so faintly he almost missed it.
"…Noel… I can't lie to Grandpa."
Noel's heart dropped.
Charlotte's fingers curled tightly in her lap.
"He deserves the truth," she whispered, voice quivering with conviction. "All of it. Everything that happened. Everything we saw."
Noel's blood ran cold.
"Charlotte," he whispered quickly, eyes widening, "that's not what we agreed. Are you sure?"
