The eyes that meet the girl are scattered, wild, an instant from loss of sanity.

Eyes that expect someone else and don't find that person there.

Lapis gasps again, heaves air into her body. The chains remain taut. What else could she do? She's been holding them for so long . . . to release is an impossibility. She can feel the weight; that is more real to her than a stranger's assurance.

"What . . ." She grapples for another breath, for enough focus and words to respond. "Who . . . are you? You shouldn't be here. This place-- . . ."

But she doesn't finish the thought, cutting herself into silence.

"However you came here, you have to go."