Schiller recalled the woman he had seen in the hallucination from the boy's perspective. She had walked through a pitch-black tunnel, calling Henry's name. Flames had spread across the floor and walls. Amid the firelight, she had vaguely seen a mummified corpse. When she died, there had been the faint shadow of gears and clock hands behind her, as though she were inside a clock tower.
Schiller knew perfectly well that this might not have been a real memory. It could have been a hallucination, or more likely, a memory distorted by hallucinations and subjective impressions.
It was no surprise that Pride could see something in it. Ever since he had entered the hospital, he had not properly acted as a Doctor. He had clearly spent all his time studying the plot instead.
The dream Pride had seen was more complete than Schiller's, so he had gained more clues and could infer more things.
Although Schiller had not devoted his attention to this, after giving it some thought, he more or less understood Pride's reasoning.
Clocks were a crucial image. That did not mean the woman had truly died in a clock tower; it meant that the time of her death was important. Something that indicated the time had left a deep impression on the owner of those memories.
Henry possessed a particularly unusual air, which made Schiller realize that he could not be fooled by Henry's behavior. Henry might have told the truth, but he had concealed the most important part.
People like that were born liars. They felt no guilt or unease when lying, and they remained perfectly composed when hiding the truth. Their innate lack of morality gave them a great advantage in that regard.
"Let me think," Pride said. "You wanted her to die at a