Eleanor: You trust him? Flint? Cast your lot with him?
Madi: What does it matter to you?
Eleanor: Before this war began, before everyone’s roles changed, your father mistrusted Flint as much as anyone in Nassau did. I assume you were in some contact with him all that time...and I’m surprised his feelings didn’t influence you.
Madi: You were my sister. There is very little I remember from when I was young, but I remember this — you were older, you were beautiful. I revered you. When you were told that my mother and I were dead, I have to believe that it affected you. You had just lost your mother. But if things were as I remember, my mother and I were your family, too. And yet, through all the years thereafter that my father cared for you, counseled you, labored for you, he never told you that we were alive. It would have been so easy to lessen your suffering by divulging the secret...and yet he never did. Have you yet asked yourself why that is? My father didn’t mistrust Flint. My father mistrusted all of you.
