Alistair draws a careful breath. Everything feels very cold, and very clear, all of a sudden: like the moment's crystallized, suspended. If he says the wrong thing, it'll shatter.

Problem is, he has no idea what the right thing to say would be, either.

The truth, then. It's all he has. (Maker, let it be enough.)

"The parts of you I always recognize," he says, no louder, "are the one that wants to keep people safe, and the one that wants to serve something greater. At Kinloch...we all knew what could happen if a Circle fell and sent abominations out into the world. I recognized you. You thought there was no hope for the people inside, so the best you could do was protect the people outside."