[ By this point Harriet has accepted there probably is something more amiss with Helena than just a different way of interacting with the world. She doesn't know what it is, but there's something there. Something (she thinks bitterly) the Library knows about. But okay fine she'll put her campaign on hold for now. First, food. Second... she'll see where the dream takes her.

Helena pops back into her field of vision with a trash can lid. Having spent years of her life in New York, she can see that going a few ways (one of them involving her getting robbed because she let herself be a little soft, that's cool) but no, she looks curious. Still, Harriet doesn't just let her guard down. This place smells worse than a city sewer on a gross summer's day, and there are women in identical masks everywhere. Even if Helena isn't a threat — and Harriet would bet she isn't — something could come for them. ]

I believe my brain tells me it's real. It feels real. It looks real. [ Etc. ] But brains tell us all sorts of things, and they're not always right.

[ Besides, illusions look real. That's their purpose. To cloak snd confuse. ]

The letter said this is a dream. All I know for sure is, we need more information, and we need to eat.