It was wholly possible that Monsieur Lecter had absolutely no idea about Errol whatsoever. Beauty believed him, all the same. She let out a breath, then set down the remainder of her tea. It was a very hard thing he was setting in front of her. She didn't know if it was right or not. And it meant...

Well. It meant being vulnerable. It meant taking a risk with her heart. It meant possibly making a friendship sour. But if everything Hannibal were saying was true, it also meant helping. Helping quite a bit. She chewed on her bottom lip. She looked down at the shopping bags on the floor.

It seemed trivial now, her attempts to look pretty for him. She still didn't believe he saw her at all, not as anything other than a coworker and friend. She was shaking her head, although she didn't know why.

"Thank you," she said, at length. Still looking dazed, she stood and murmured, "I should... go... Thank you, Monsieur Lecter."