After finishing Sparrow Sparrow's story, Bobota turned to Angel.
"Is she well?"
This was the second time Bobota had asked the same question. The first time, the heart of his question had been, "How is she living now?" But this time, what he truly meant was, "Is her soul well?"
"When I left, she was still well." Angel spoke with reservations. As an outsider, he truly had no standing to judge whether Sparrow Sparrow was doing well or not. He had only met her once, and when he first encountered her, it had been her desolate, mournful crying that drew him in. That alone was enough to show that she surely had not been living well beneath that cemetery.
Before leaving, however, Angel had arranged an illusion for her and left behind several magic crystals. Compared to before she had met him, Sparrow Sparrow was indeed a little better off—but not by much. Perhaps the books and little trinkets within that illusion could ease her boredom, but they could never drive away her loneliness.
Yet Angel could not tell Bobota these things now. At the very least, he could not provoke him.
But Bobota was no fool. In truth, he had already suspected something. "This room is an illusion you set up, isn't it?"
Angel nodded in admission.
"Thank you." For the first time, there was a little less hostility in Bobota's gaze when he looked at Angel.
"No need to thank me. If you want to know whether Sparrow Sparrow is truly living well now, you can go see her yourself. After all, she must be very lonely by herself." Angel vaguely alluded to Sparrow Sparrow's current situation.
Bobota merely lowered his head in silence.
He truly wanted to see his sister, but... he did not have much time