[ God murmurs to himself, as though it's a private joke: ]

Just long enough for things to go straight to hell.

[ See, it's funny because it's literal.

Still: he weathers Gideon's bristling accusations, and fields them with the same mild tone as Harrow continues to look bewildered. At some point, he makes a good-faith gesture and leaves the pair of them alone. He goes to mind the skeletons and the distant shoreline, and let his surprise daughter say what she will in his absence.

It's much later, upon solid ground and within the dark and quiet halls of his borrowed home, that he next has the chance to speak with Harrow alone. He draws her aside before she can retreat to rest for the night. Unkind as it may be, he sits her down across from him with tea.

Really not that unkind, if you ask him: there's no better atmosphere for an awkward, apologetic explanation than sitting in his silent study with an untouched mug of tea. They're making a habit of it. ]

Now, I do know it's been a long day, but we should probably cover the basics.