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Open this attachment. My response is in the video.
[Attached to the e-mail is a file titled: Lotte.wma]
The video opens on a single man in a large, spacious room. The back wall of it is out of scope of the camera, too far away to be seen, but the side walls are both lined with ornate artworks and shelves covered in glass cases. In the center of the camera’s focus is Diego, sitting in a chair with his hands steepled before him. He’s clean-shaven, hair neatly done, and he’s dressed nicely. For a moment, he just looks into the camera before animating to speak.
“Lotte,” he starts, the sound a low exhale. “I thought that this would be the best way to respond. That way, there are no do-overs, no mistakes.” He shifts slightly, dropping his hands into his lap. “If I was thinking ahead, I might have three things to say, like a point one and a two and so on. But I don’t know how much I will say, or how far I will go. So I am just going to start, with things that I know, because it is this knowledge that has stayed with me my whole life. It is the knowledge my father passed on to me, and I always respect him as a very wise man.”
He shifts in his chair, resting both hands on the arm rests and lifting himself up slightly before settling back down. “The first thing,” he says, holding up one finger. “Is that a man who lies to you today will lie to you tomorrow. He will lie to you in his sleep, he will lie to you on his death bed. There is no cure for a liar, Lotte. To him, the truth is not a virtue. It is something-” He trails off, waving a hand about before settling on a word. “-flimsy. Something to be ignored. And a man who will willingly lie to make you think you are crazy?” His upper lip curls in disgust, and for a moment, there’s a flash of something menacing in his eyes. “Well. He is no friend of yours, Lotte. He puts his gain before your well-being, that is clear. You don’t want him around. A man that lies to keep you down and lift him up will stab you. It may be with his words, but listen to me when I say he will draw blood.” He raises two fingers, gesturing firmly to the camera before letting them fall limp.
There’s a moment’s pause as he scratches his chin, considering this. “Second thing, another thing that I know, is that the way you see something is the way that it is. For you. It may not be that way for all the other people, but that’s the only way it will ever exist in your mind. This means that there are times when you cannot worry about what other people say. If you see things one way, then sometimes, you have to just accept that. Instead of asking what you should be doing, or how to handle this Bran person, perhaps you should examine the way you feel, the way you see.” His fingers hover between his heart and his eyes before tangling in his hair, smoothing down a slight cowlick.
“I cannot tell you what to do. I cannot tell you what to think. I’m not you! But I can tell you that in you, inside of you, is your answer.” Clenching a fist, he pounds it lightly over his chest, the sound thudding and echoing in the large room. “Perhaps you’ll find it today. Perhaps tomorrow. But you know yourself, Lotte. And you know what you can do. You aren’t crazy? Good! Know you aren’t!” He leans forward in the chair, face growing closer to the camera. “Do you see what I mean?”