[ When she'd first arrived in Aldrip, she was coming from a point when she hadn't known Harold that well. But now Root has spent over a year by his side and she knows him much better, realizes his distaste for ugliness isn't naivete or weakness like she'd originally thought. Charles is really starting to remind her of Harold in a certain way, that obstinate resolution for goodness wrapped up in a different package. So she's not too surprised to hear that from Charles, with all that time with Harold behind her; she knows already Charles isn't ignorant -- how could he be, if he's solving mysteries to put ghosts to rest? He must have seen all kinds of awfulness -- but she is relieved a little, and achingly warmed.

Root couldn't be this close to someone who didn't know how to look at the ugliness that's there. That sometimes she has to be the one to do.

She sees his reticence and prods at it mercilessly, her voice confident and strong. She'd learned a few things from Harold, too. ] The Machine once told me that when she was learning how to understand people, it was often the moment right before their death that told her the most.

In the grand cosmic scheme of things, sure, death is death. But if that's all I believed then I'd still be killing people for money, no questions asked. [ Root speaks bluntly of her own sins, ruthlessly. ] There are deaths people don't deserve.

[ And conversely, those they do. Root believes that wholeheartedly. ]