—My sister cried alot. You wonder how I recognize you? Some people –just a handful, mind you– give off the tiniest color. It's faint. Like a haze. It's the only thing I ever see in the darkness. Papa has it, too. Do you wonder what your color is? Well, that I won't tell you. It's not ladylike to speak of such things. You shouldn't even have asked.
—You run like a boy.
—Thank you. I know why you denied my sister. When I was younger... you used to hold my arm when I walked. Then suddenly you stopped. One day, I even tripped in your presence and nearly fell. I was faking, of course, but still you did not hold me. Sometimes we don't do things we want to do so that others won't know we want to do them.
Why don't you shut the door
and close the curtains?