"I couldn’t just ignore her..." she assents softly. And so it was that she was to take a message to the Gracious Widow. Was this her sister? Or, perhaps, her daughter? It was hard to say. The widow kept her personal life separate from her professional and this young woman seemed to be of much the same mind. Perhaps it was hereditary. Dot listens carefully as the woman leans close. Words ring in her ears, tickled by the faintest of breath. And then? Nothing, save a heaviness. The unnatural weight of a newly dead body, its warmth draining out into your very hands.

There was nothing you could’ve done. This could just as easily be you, you know. The boatman turns and looks her way, sending a shudder down her spine. You have to get out of here. You have to–

Light.

Dot inhales sharply, unconsciously tightening her grip. It feels like hours had passed in the span of mere minutes. Her eyes sit level with Honerva’s but her gaze is far beyond her. She looks positively haunted.