"Very little did Teacher any good at the very end of things," Harrow says, thinking not just of the Teacher Gideon remembers but the one from her twisted Canaanite dreams, wandering the halls and eager--overjoyed, even!--to die. It's a thought too cold for a time like this, too steeped in horror, and Harrow makes herself put it away after a minute.

"I never thought I'd agree with you on anything," she continues, taking one last bite of salad, "especially where knowing things is concerned, but you may be right about this." She looks over at Gideon, and the faintest glimmer of a genuine smile appears on her lips. "Do not tell the Warden."