Her head tilted sideways, as she tried to picture the mask piece itself. Even if she knew what he'd looked like with it on before, it was difficult to imagine something covering the scars as well as it had. Lotte took another sip of her tea, making a small sound that could have been an I see. "Do you wear it often? If it's, er, difficult to wear." It crossed her mind to ask why he couldn't wear it constantly if it was hard to get off, but she shoved it aside. There was probably a logical answer that would only make her look foolish.
When he said they were burned, she frowned. "I'm sorry-" She meant it, looking at them. It crossed her mind that it must have hurt terribly - whatever accident it had been must have been horrible. She didn't like talking about her father after all - pressing further would only be bad. Even if she wanted to know what happened.
She let her eyes fall, staring at her tea for a long moment, before asking, "If I - I mean, if I ask you which parts of what you told me were true, from when we talked before - will you actually tell the truth?" She didn't look up, not liking the question itself. She wanted to believe in the bits he'd told her now, she couldn't see why he'd lie about that - but she didn't know what she could trust. The only thing reliable was what he’d said in the theater and that he’d let her go. "I won't tell, I didn't before."