You should ask, Robin...he's not intuitive enough to pick up on that being what's upsetting you....Wills themselves are difficult for civilians to handle.

He does, in fact, again offer the red handkerchief from before. "You're crying." No sh*t Sherlock.

He takes a deep breath. "Yes. I understand you've grown up with him, so this cannot compare. But...he was one of the first I'd met in this strange place." A pause. "And he was, yes. I will help with whatever you see fit." As long as it's not hurting herself again. Because that goes against Sunday's wishes.

"We should be almost there." Movement flickers out of the corner of his vision. That man again. "Signora...I see. Someone who is not you, in some reflections. A man, in dark clothing. Is he someone you know?"