Cassandra blinks at her, mildly surprised, then tilts her eyes upward at the wreath and smiles.

"Very little that I didn't already know," she says, "which she pointed out. Until I asked the last part. And she said that she thought so." Her voice shifts slightly, taking on another person's careful precision. "'As far as it's ever possible to know something like that,' she said, 'about anyone. Even about oneself.'"

She turns her gaze back to her work. "And I very nearly asked her, right there: do good people not know they're good? But it felt like giving too much away, just then."