Dionisia shook her head in response to his first question. Nothing had happened to the house, except that in the coming months it would undoubtedly be empty. If there was no way she could solve her problem through legal, proper means, the only appropriate course of action would be to abandon the world she loved so dearly in search for more suitable arrangements. She would have to find a muggle village, or the slums of muggle London were she wouldn't be found, and attempt to pass herself off as an impoverished widow.
The moment Mr. Fisk didn't answer her question, Dionisia was wholly prepared to wave it off, give some sort of excuse (or, Merlin forbid, lie to him), and run back home until she could find another option. Although... the way he looked down at her, with those soft brown eyes, and the way he spoke, with that soft, gentle tone, gave her momentary pause. She stared up at him with wide eyes, momentarily overcome with the irrational thought that he could see right into her mind. He looked at her as if he must know, but it greatly contradicted how she imagined a respectable gentleman would approach a woman like her.
In a brief moment of vulnerability, Dionisia reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. A pink envelope. She'd brought it to show to Zelda as both evidence and a cry for help.
"It wasn't my fault," she said softly, her voice full of regret. "I didn't realize - I never would have. I'm not like that," she finally revealed, "but now—" She looked up at him expectantly. He had to know.
The moment Mr. Fisk didn't answer her question, Dionisia was wholly prepared to wave it off, give some sort of excuse (or, Merlin forbid, lie to him), and run back home until she could find another option. Although... the way he looked down at her, with those soft brown eyes, and the way he spoke, with that soft, gentle tone, gave her momentary pause. She stared up at him with wide eyes, momentarily overcome with the irrational thought that he could see right into her mind. He looked at her as if he must know, but it greatly contradicted how she imagined a respectable gentleman would approach a woman like her.
In a brief moment of vulnerability, Dionisia reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. A pink envelope. She'd brought it to show to Zelda as both evidence and a cry for help.
"It wasn't my fault," she said softly, her voice full of regret. "I didn't realize - I never would have. I'm not like that," she finally revealed, "but now—" She looked up at him expectantly. He had to know.
