It was quiet for a while as Lily busied herself with making the tea, and Amelia returned to perusing the contents of the memorabilia box. Further discoveries included a set of small drawings and paintings – at least one of which she surmised likely to be her own handiwork – and a small red-haired ragdoll. She was just examining the doll when Lily brought a teapot and a pair of mugs to the table. After filling both mugs, she sat back down.

 “That is a later addition,” she commented while snagging a sugar cube from a ceramic container and plopping it into her mug.

 “Oh. It didn't seem familiar to me, but it's not like my memory is all that great. There's bound to be a whole lot I don't remember from back then. I do seem to recall that you, on the other hand, always appeared to have a keen memory, though.”

 “Often to an inconvenient degree.” Lily hesitated for a moment. “Speaking of remembering. Wilkins? I am pretty sure your last name used to be Burnham. Did you...” her voice trailed off. Amelia lifted her eyes from the doll and noticed her friend was looking slightly uncomfortable for some reason.

 “Hmm? Oh.” Amelia figured she was worried about prying. “No, nothing like that.” She held up her left hand and wiggled her ring finger, with no ring to be found on it. “My aunt had my name changed. To ‘fit in better with the family’, or something to that effect, as if that would’ve helped with that disaster. I don’t know, or at least remember, why, but my Mommy never changed her last name, and I got her name rather than Daddy’s. I didn't go through the hassle of changing it back even after coming back here, though. I guess I got used to it.” With a sigh, she grabbed her mug and also dropped in a pair of sugar cubes. “Keen memory or not, how did you even remember that, though? As for me – 'Rosalie McCullough.' I didn't remember your last name at all. If I did, I probably could’ve looked for you and maybe actually found something. I recalled ‘Rosalie’ once I realised it was you, but didn’t recognise it on its own.” Another thing to chide herself for, especially combined with the green eyes and still somewhat reddish hair.

 “You never called me by that name.”

 “Oh, that's right.” Amelia chuckled. “Because ‘I like lilies better!’ I suppose that's still true, but that does seem kind of rude of me in retrospect. Everyone else ended up calling you that shortly after.” ‘The Rose and the Lily.’ She had not thought of that story for a long time, as dear as it was to her. Perhaps she’d even been subconsciously avoiding doing so.

 “Yes.” Lily let out a long breath and gazed out the window in front of which the table was located. “After you were gone, I... stopped responding to that name. Not that I cared about anything anyone there had to say to me after they refused to tell me what I wanted to know.”

 “Oh... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have–” Amelia started, looking somewhat distressed, but Lily shook her head slightly while still looking away.

 “It was just too painful to hear without you there. Now you are back, so that is that. It would be weird for you to call me anything else.” She turned her gaze from the window back to Amelia and smiled briefly and slightly awkwardly. Seeing and hearing that, Amelia had to collect herself for a moment and wipe off a few sneaky tears from the corners of her eyes.

 “What else happened after I was gone, though? Did you stay at Saint Cecilia’s, or...?”

 “For another six months, yes. Then it was a foster family for a while and an intended adoption that did not last very long because I was not...” She fidgeted with her mug, then opted to take a big gulp before continuing. “You know how it was.” Amelia felt a twinge in her chest at that. Aside from her, Lily hadn't exactly got along with people, whether at the children's home or otherwise. And even they had had their rough patches during those two years. And as that realisation merged with what she had thought earlier about the house not appearing to be equipped for having guests, she found herself having to fight back tears yet again – she hadn’t been entertaining any guests since returning to Scotland either, but that had been more of a choice. Lily was looking away again, and so didn't seem to notice.

 “Shortly before the children’s home closed, an older couple, the Reynoldses, took me in. They did not really know what to do with me either, and mostly left me to my own devices, but they were... kind. I am grateful to them. Even so, I moved out six months after turning eighteen. On my birthday, I was informed of an inheritance from my mother. I do not know why she had such a sum to appoint to me in her will, but not anything else at all. It was surprising since I still know nothing about her beyond her name and that she died after giving birth to me.” Thoughtful, she took another sip of tea and looked around the room. “With the inheritance, allowances I had saved up and backing from the Reynoldses to secure a loan, I got this place. I was already doing some work at that point, so it wasn't difficult with them backing it, and it didn’t hurt that they knew the previous owners... what?” She’d noticed Amelia was gazing at her with a warm smile.

 “Oh, nothing much. I just realised I might've already heard you talk more today than in those two whole years back then.” She chuckled. “Well, maybe not. But I guess you have changed a bit. More than just outwardly.” Lily shifted on her seat, looking slightly uncomfortable and pondering something for a moment before replying.

 “Probably not as much as you think. I am still not good at being with or talking to people, so I mostly keep to myself. With you here, now, it is different. After you… left, I realised that even if we talked fairly little, I missed it. Now that I can, there is so much that I want to say. And so much I want to hear. If anything, the problem is there being too much of both.” At that, Amelia couldn't help but stand up, walk up to and behind the suddenly perplexed Lily and give her another big, long hug.