Irsa Kreutz

The twenty-fourth line stays empty again today. I wrote down that the ink hadn't dried.

• Wolfgang HessInk takes that long to dry, does it. Must be something special about the interrogation room's ink.
  Irsa KreutzYours dries just fine, I notice. Must be because there's so little written on it.
• BenjaminI refilled the ink myself this morning, actually. Ah, never mind. I didn't say anything.
  MartaBoy, close that mouth of yours.

Twenty-three lines drawn. What the hand remembers isn't the red line itself, but the morning after.

• Sister AgnesHands don't lie. Your glove always wears through on the right hand first, Inquisitor.
  Irsa KreutzIt's only the glove that's worn, Sister.
• Gregorius von EisenTwenty-three isn't a number, it's a scar. End it at twenty-four.

Twenty-three urns, but only twenty-two name tags. I stopped counting a long time ago.

• BenjaminShould I draw up the list again? I think I could find out where the missing one went.
  Irsa KreutzDon't.
• Sister AgnesAsh isn't heavy, and yet everyone who walks out of that room comes out with their shoulders bowed.
  MartaThey were bowed before they ever went in.