Louisa raised her head and stayed, looking at her. There was something about the jaundice-skinned lady that was serving her tea. Her conduct was apt. It was already eight-fifteen.
"Brightfin," she said, suddenly, "how is your health today."
The pale-yellow-complexioned girl did not reply. She appeared evidently sick. Her lips looked broken and torn, possibly due to her brief illness of yesterday. "I am slightly, um, better than I was at night," she finally said, "I am sorry Tricia had to take up your food, in my place. I really, um, couldn't ——"
Brightfin glanced up at Louisa who peeled her eyes away, looking out the window. "I have a few problems of my own," Louisa said, confidingly, "but I am unaware if I can trust you to keep a secret."
Brightfin straightened her back, "What, um, secret?"she said. "Perhaps, if you, um, let me know…"
"Probably not!"
