Daniel looks at him and Louis looks away, out at the city.

"We spoke."

And hurt each other in the process of it, perhaps. Louis has picked so obsessively over the conversation since then that he doubts anything more can be gathered from it. If the conclusions he draws from it are even close to correct.

Seventy-seven years is long, even for vampires. Don't they know each other, he and Armand? Which parts had been real? It couldn't all have been artifice.

"A building we lived in burned down afterwards. I assume it was his doing, given the nature of the blaze."