And she did say something. Something sharp and sudden the [i]instant[/i] the question was asked.

"[color=ffe63d]What?[/color]"

It wasn't asked with any kind of vehemence or outrage; nothing in her tone spoke of anything resembling anger, or anything of the sort. No, all Quinn's voice carried was innocent, dumb confusion. She blinked a few times, trying to parse out the question, to see if there was any way she possibly could've misinterpreted it and finding nothing. Only a few seconds later did she come to grips with what he'd actually asked, and she cocked her head. "[color=ffe63d]What?[/color]" She repeated. "[color=ffe63d]No, of course not. Why would she ever do that?[/color]" A beat passed and she went through things in her head again, shaking her head. "[color=ffe63d]Casoban might not like her because of her association with me, but...what would she ever have to gain from that?[/color]"

And though Quinn still held on to that confident conviction--it was unshaken--a sticky black dread was slowly building up inside her, coupled with an ember of anger that sparked more than it should've. She could take people calling [i]her[/i] awful and evil and in league with Helburke, it would be awful but it was what it was. But Dahlia had [i]never[/i] given less than a hundred percent, and the idea that people were starting to blame her for someone else dying...Quinn just found it abhorrent.

She shook her head again, the bemused look on her face turning to a guarded concern. "[color=ffe63d]I'm sorry, it just...doesn't make any sense to me. She's just not the kind of person who would [i]ever[/i] do something like that.[/color]"