Pitch came down from the north tower alone. Part of her still couldn’t believe that she had said what she did.

“…A second chance,” she thought to herself. “As if she’s done anything to deserve it. One hug and a sob story, and I’m giving her a second chance…”

Still, she couldn’t very well take back her words at that point. She had made a decision, and she felt it would only be right to stand by it…at least for the time being.

“…You spoke to her,” said a voice from the shadows.

Pitch turned to look, and saw a familiar pair of striped horns glowing in the dark. She smiled briefly.

“…I did,” she replied. “I’ve decided that I may…stay here for a while.”

“So even you believe her??” Azor stepped forward. “I thought you would be smarter than that.”

“…Smarter??”

“You can’t possibly need me to explain why staying with this woman is a foolish idea.”

“I’m not— this isn’t foolishness,” Pitch protested. “I’m not naïve. I know there’s still a perfectly good chance that this could all be another trick…but I really think there’s also a chance that she might be sincere. And it just…wouldn’t be fair, to her…not to take it.”

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“You’re worried about being fair to her now…?”

“I try to be fair to everyone, regardless of the circumstances. And if that sounds foolish to you, then so be it.”

Azor made a strained expression with his false eyes; one that Pitch didn’t remember seeing before. Then he let out a metallic sigh.

“…I don’t understand you,” he said. “After everything you told me during that walking trip, about how much you despised this woman…”

Pitch frowned. “…I suppose you expect me to just kill her and be done with it.”

“It’s what I would do.”

“Well, I’m not you.”

“Even if it turned out that she was still out for my blood, I would never kill her unless I absolutely had to,” she continued, stepping forward. “Besides, you didn’t hear what she just told me: she finally has what she wants. She’s found a way to be the most beautiful woman in the world forever, or at least to get that accursed mirror to tell her so. And in her mind, that means I no longer need to die.”

“And you’re satisfied with this??” Azor asked incredulously.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m satisfied…but I can accept it. I can accept that this horrible ordeal may finally be over.” She lowered her gaze. “That’s all I ever wanted…after all…”

Azor stood silently for a moment. Then, slowly, as if he were unused to the gesture, he wrapped his hands around Pitch’s shoulders, like a dark, gossamer shawl.

“…Everyone who’s had to run for their lives wants it to be over,” he said. “But wishing won’t make it so. It will only tempt you to take unnecessary risks; to trust those who are undeserving.”

“But—”

“You may believe she’s sincere, even she may believe she’s sincere, but there is no guarantee that it will last. And frankly, if I were you, I wouldn’t take the chance.”

With that, he left Pitch standing by the stairs. She turned to watch him go.