Pal remains quiet for a few moments, his mind turning over as he searches for the right words of his own. “And what if the palette is irrevocably changed? Whether I like it or not, the reds and blues have mixed and become purple. I cannot look at John and derive my opinion of him solely from my interactions with him here—or, for that matter, solely from what I know of him at home. I can’t do that for myself, either. I’ve made choices, here and there, that have affected the lives of others. All of those choices have made me who I am, even the ones I still don’t remember.”

He falls silent again, inhaling the soothing steam of the tea. “I respect your misgivings. But I hope you can respect my judgement. I haven’t come to these opinions lightly or eagerly, and I’m not suggesting any rash actions—only that we all have a care.”