[Renoir is looking into the well when he hears unfamiliar steps, troubled by the return of his eldest. Decades have passed since they saw each other. Decades of failure to serve his purpose as her father. Decades of realising he is as much a failure as his namesake.

He continues staring into the well and the illusion of their family home shining at the bottom. Why does his son refuse to see that in another world, where their family are almost together, there are new avenues for him to explore?

How many times must his sisters suffer? How many times must their family suffer?

He inhales and grounds himself, one hand seizing his cane from against the well. His mind steels itself while he turns around and bears himself, returning to proper posture and form.

And he sees her.

He refuses to elaborate or enquire, to keep that burden off her shoulders, when he sees what she has endured. Instead, he opens himself emotionally, makes himself vulnerable in a way he cannot act around others.]

We exchanged words. [Both hands grip his cane. His fingers tighten around the handle while it bears all his weight.] It is good to see you.

[That is all he shares. Because it is necessary to suppress his emotions about seeing her again. It is his duty.]