It was a number of days after the letter was first published that Cindy returned home near the end of the day to begin her usual preparations for the Gibbses' return. However, unlike all the other days before, she did not enter a lonely attic. Rather, she looked and saw Cornelia sat on a makeshift chair with a frightful mess all round her and the Guardian's shadow strewn across her lap. She gave it a few gentle strokes, as if it were a pet to be groomed, and in such a pose, the former Lady Gibbs spoke.

Welcome back, Kiara. You sly, little b*tch.

The moment, as you might imagine, was nothing short of horrifying to young Cindy. It was the final proof that Cornelia had come to know their true relation. It was not at all surprising but finally knowing for certain was, indeed, quite frightful. After standing there pale-faced and paralysed for a half minute, Cindy took out her notepad to draft a desperate reply. She wrote "I am called Cindy, Madame. It's okay if you forgot. Tis a common mistake." and presented it with all the confidence befitting someone telling an obvious lie- that is to say, none at all.

Madame Nurse, methinks we could make this a lot simpler if we simply agreed to tell each other the truth.

Fear mutated into anger at the sound of such a proposition. With a nod, Kiara- her face becoming swiftly stoic -agreed to the matriarch's terms and took a seat on a little table to meet her gaze on level ground.

First, I must commend you, girl. I have been trying to be rid of you from the day you were born and yet here you are, ever the thorn at my side. You've learnt the game well. You've learned to swim all the while drowning. On that account, I have nothing but respect for you.

After that, Cornelia went on to briefly retell events from days past. This is what she described, including many of the details which she left out.

Shortly after the letter had been published, Cornelia had taken her husband and son to Sir Kevan's Park- the hunting grounds where the other party-goers were now searching every nook and cranny. She had considered bringing her maid along but feared being too often seen with her and, even worse, having her be seen to find the cloak; the notion of having the Overseers requesting to personally thank the voiceless girl was the stuff of nightmares to the former Lady. Then, as she pondered over such a fear, the realisation struck. When she had returned home from her third day of searching, she looked and saw her maid bolting up the stairs, away from the ready set dinner table, and she began to wonder why John Smith- concert master- had come to Tolemac at all.

Surely his hatred of us would be reason enough for coming all this way to ruin our poor boy.

Perhaps... or perhaps he was only part of the plan.

Perhaps he had his own player in the running.

Then a faint echo emerged from the recesses of her heart. From her, came the vague memory of an occurrence she had been too tired to ponder at the time: The Silencer's calling of a certain contestant just as she was falling asleep.

Joanne Smith!

And so, with such a straw in her grasp, Cornelia took it as an absolute certainty that Cindy had, in fact, been Kiara the whole time and that she and Smith, together, had been engaged in a plot against herself. In all fairness to the former Lady, she was three-quarters correct. But not even Darius himself would have given her top marks- even for a fully correct answer -in the face of such shoddy workings. Of course, she had been suspicious of Cindy from the beginning...

But now I have no doubt.

And since the cloak's absence had vexed her so, the only explanation which seemed logical to her was that the girl had somehow been behind it.

For the purpose of humiliating me, she must have robbed the Overseers.

That night, Cornelia found very little sleep. When all the lights were out, and James was lost in the dreamscape, her first instinct was to climb the steps towards her servant's room. However, it was perfectly clear to Cornelia that she would have woken the girl up long before she reached the top and even if the cloak had been there- and, indeed, at that very moment, Cindy was, in fact, asleep with her arms wrapped around the shadow -the girl would have had plenty of time to put it away before the end of the steps. So, the former Lady waited until the next morning and then waited a while longer for James and Darius to go on their way. She herself drove off just so Cindy would see her go. Then, she returned on foot to wait and see. Sure enough, the girl was gone only a few hours later.

The rascal means to get her revenge whatever the cost. She would be homeless and starving before handing me that cloak. In fact, she might even use my justice as a sob story to tell the Overseers upon returning the cloak. Are there any lengths she will not sink to in order to destroy my fate?

With the house all to herself, Cornelia raced up to her maid's room and began ransacking the place. There was very little strategy in those first few minutes and she may very well have found and discarded the black cloak during that time. Then, calming down, she began to mechanically pick up boxes, empty them and throw them across the room. She repeated this until it exhausted her. Only then, did she find it. She had, in her mad stomping, accidentally opened the loose floorboard and found the treasure underneath some time ago. It was only when she was moments away from opening Cindy's money box, that she finally noticed, under the mess she had created for herself, the shadow-black cloak of Malachi Brandonkin.

There you are, my precious. Fear not, the villain has not outwitted me yet.

With the cloak in hand, Cornelia sent a picture to Pelton through her ringer, proving that she had found it. Then came the bit that caused her to panic: he asked if he could have the Overseers ring her up. She agreed in as professional a voice as she could muster and less than a minute later, her ringer went mad.

Hullo?

Peace be with you. This is Chainbreaker. If I am not mistaken, you are the Madame Gibbs.

That I am.

And you have the cloak with you?

Indeed. When and where can I return it?

Well that depends, you see. My boy has told me that last he saw his cloak, he had left it with a lyricist. If she has entrusted it to you and does not wish to be met, then I can come pick it up myself. But my son is so fond of her and her playing. And if she would be open to enchanting our halls with her music, I would invite her over. Tell me, would she be open to visiting Stallion's Rest?

And so Cornelia felt the burning temptation to kill herself. None of the laity had visited Stallion's Rest in living memory. If she would go, then she would be one of the first in their generation and be notable throughout all Tolemac. And yet, the condition of it was to admit to that connection which she had spent many years trying to sever. With her dream of stepping into that blessed palace came the nightmare of being her maid's chauffeur and the thought broke her heart in two. The following words came out slow and painfully like a very unhealthy bowel movement.

Yes. She and I are quite close. I could easily arrange for her to join us.

Fantastic. Thank you for your help Lady Gibbs.

Please, you can call me Cornelia.

Peace be with you.

In the span of one conversation, Cornelia had gone from utterly delighted to utterly miserable. She sat quietly in that upper room, wallowing in her own desolation until, hours later, Cindy returned home and saw the cloak in her former Lady's arms before being told a brief summary of how things had come to such an end.

So it seems, for once, our goals are aligned. You want to see the boy and I want to see his parents. Make no mistake, girl. I would only do this if I had no other alternative. If only the boy had not mentioned that the lyricist he met was a "she", I could have brought Darius instead. If only that John Smith had not sabotaged his playing, he could have been brilliant and I would not have to fear my own son being made a fool of before our mighty defenders.

It is said that if you wanted to understand, in your heart, whether or not you trusted a person, the best way was to imagine giving them your most prized possession. Even if the thought did not delight you, that did not matter. No one is delighted at giving away a prized possession. What mattered was whether or not you could bear it. If the thought made you sick. If it unravelled you. If it made your stomach turn inside out and your hair become, suddenly, very itchy- if you passionately felt as though you would rather see your boon destroyed than handed over, then that was the mark of how you really felt about a person. Such was the case here.

The offer was indeed terribly tempting. And some part of her thought to simply agree and trust the Overseers to discard the former Lady by their own wisdom. Yet, Kiara had already resolved to stay in the house of the Gibbses in accordance with her late mother's wishes. And, resolve or no, in her heart of hearts she could not bear the thought of any witches sinking their claws into her new fellow- no matter how low the risk. And so these duelling vows kept her captive since she could not discard Cornelia and she could not let her enter the Guardian's company. The idea that he would keep fellowship with her, and have to suffer on account of her own voluntary misery, was dreadful to her. That dread became the source of her strength. And with that strength, Kiara began drafting her reply, leaving Cornelia waiting impatiently for a rather long while.

This is foolish!

This is suicide!

Stupid girl! Cowardly girl!

Stand by your fellows, I dare you!

For once, fight!

Fight!

Fight!

At last, Kiara presented the former Lady with this message: "If only you had called me Ellie, you could have had a willing helper. As it stands, I'd burn before letting him or his stock suffer you, witch."

Well.. that was a mistake.

Upon reading the reply, Cornelia could not help but smile at finally seeing proof of the girl's hatred towards her. After all, the former Lady had suspected, all the time from the day the girl was born, that every piece of pain and humiliation which she had brought upon her had been the product of pure, rotten malevolence. And so she thought to herself...

Here's the evidence.

Brandishing her ear-to-ear smile, she crumpled up the note and tossed it into the part of the mess that had been behind her. And, with her newly freed hand, she produced a lighter and started a fire beneath the shadow-black cloak.

Don't touch that!

In a fit of rage, Kiara leapt off her seat and reached out against the woman. It was the first time Cornelia had ever seen it: her daughter pouncing like a lion or tiger, or other big cat, baring its teeth and stretching out its arms to tear apart a-soon-to-be corpse for having dared to step into the predator's territory. Cornelia herself got up at once and put a stop to the attack by putting the lighter a little closer to the cloak. She then began circling around to keep away the girl whose obvious wildness made her feel utterly gleeful.

There we are. Your true colours. I've always known you were my enemy. I've always known that you hated me and that you were always humiliating me on purpose. Now, there is honesty at last. And now that I have heard your confession, I can offer you penance.

For fear of losing the shadow, Kiara calmed herself as best as she could and kept her distance as best as could be done in that cramped and ruined attic. You may have already figured that since the cloak was made of wyvern wool (with wyverns being only beastly dragons; the ones that couldn't talk), it was perfectly safe to hold around fires. That is to say, you could toss it into an active volcano and you would still be in more danger than it. Still, Cornelia did not know that and although Kiara suspected it, she thought too dearly of the cloak to make such a gamble.

Now then, listen very carefully...

No. You have broken my father but you will not break my fellow.

The articulation was too clear, and Cornelia's gaze too focused and learned, for the refusal to be missed. At last, she saw and understood that the girl was resolute in her stance of having no part in bringing the former Lady Gibbs to the Overseers. Fortunately (for her), she had managed to circle around until she was between the girl and the door.

I see. Well then, we have nothing left to discuss.

Immediately and angrily, Cornelia shut the lighter, walked outside and moved to shut the door behind her. However, Kiara was a very fast girl who had gotten used to moving about the minor obstacle course that was the attic. Much to Cornelia's surprise, she managed to intercept the door's closing, using her own figure as a stop.

Fight!

With one palm on the door and another on the post, Kiara pushed with all her might to make the gap large enough for her shoulders to fit through. At that same time, Cornelia began pushing with all her might to keep the gap small with the hope of locking it. And Cornelia was very afraid of little Kiara then. As you might imagine, doing a ridiculous number of chores day after day for months had the effect of building terrific strength- certainly more strength than sucking up to the aristocracy.

Fight!

And as the gap grew wider and wider, Cornelia looked back over her shoulder and saw the spiral of steps behind her- that awesomely long walk -and she feared being knocked down by the force of the struggle and having the totality of the steps break every bone in her body through the fall.

Fight!

Then she looked frontwards, expecting to face her opponent eye-to-eye only to find that her eyes were closed. To be sure, Kiara was far more concerned about surviving the struggle than about opposing Cornelia- you will know that she had never once set out to oppose the woman as a point. But even though Cornelia could not look into Kiara's eyes, she was in perfect view of the girl's lips mouthing a plea.

Why... do... you... hate... me...

That did it. In a final, frantic panic, Cornelia looked all round for an advantage, and in her utter desperation to see no more of the girl for the rest of her life, she found the winning strategy.

Silly girl. You can't hate someone who doesn't exist.

With a swift kick to her stomach, Cornelia sent her daughter falling back into the attic- which was, by the by, her room -and crashing into a very wild and harsh pile of knick knacks which Cornelia had earlier made during her searching. Before Kiara could even recover fully from the ache of the impact, the door was shut and locked from the outside so that the girl could not leave and could not interfere with Cornelia's future plans. After about an hour of screaming empty screams and banging against the gates of her cage, Kiara let her bruised fists and sore throat relent, and she curled up on the floor in despair.