"Yes." The cookie must be wearing off. They haven't been playing for a while now. Carefully, they thread the strap of the instrument over their shoulder so it doesn't risk slipping into the snow, and fold their hands neatly across their front.

It's going to change things. It always does. But it's cruel to pretend that they're not a danger; that they haven't made mistakes, and may continue to make them.

"And no."