She looked at him, brows furrowing. She wanted to protest that James was different - she'd known James for years, they'd grown up together, she could be trusted but her reasoning didn't make sense, even to her. She couldn't even tell James that the pills didn't work - James hardly seemed to accept the fables. Lotte hadn't said anything good about the Phantom to James, other than Bran hadn't hurt her - she might assume the worst.
Her eyes fell to her nearly empty mug. "I won't, I'll keep quiet." She finished the last of her tea, holding the mug in her hands for a moment. She leaned over to place it on the coffee table, looking back at him to ask hesitantly. "But what about the moon? Can you - do you ever hear anything downstairs?"