[ His nature is slow to change; it's always been this way, and -- if the stretched-out time spent together in the Singularity's crater is any indication -- he always will be. Sometimes, this is frustrating to her, even infuriating. Just as often, though, it is a source of steadiness and strength.

He gives her what she needs: reassurance that spears through the doubt clouding her waking hours these past days, a light to follow out of it. Something behind Ciri's ribs loosens. She lets out a slow breath. ]

The people were real. Some of them, people I've barely met before, or never even laid eyes on.

Is the time spent with them real if it didn't happen?

I keep thinking about it. And-- [ Briefly, she hesitates, looking away toward the shelves where some of the specimens are kept. ] I wonder also what the others remember. I didn't keep secrets after a time. The time might not have been real, but the secrets still are.

It's too much to hope for that no one will ask questions.