[He stares at her, frigid steel and lifeless stone, boring into her, looking for some lie.

She's honest, and so he sees nothing but the truth. He rubs at an eye with the heel of his hand, staring down at the shallow, weedy waters lapping at the cement beneath them.]

Tell him to bring alcohol... it doesn't matter what kind. And pills, or potions... they do. Anything poppy-derived should work for our purposes. Three days from now... I'll get us a room at a brothel.

[He tucks his hands into his pockets.]

It's a favor, to my favorite student. Mello as well.