– I’m sorry, Grisella, I saw that you were still open. Good evening. Shall I interfere? – the fairy woman looked at me with eyes as amazing as all of her – clear, bright, as if sunny, and suddenly smiled softly. – Miss Blair. What an unexpected meeting.

– Miss Norwood! – the master exclaimed in amazement, turning around. – Sabella, dear, how long have you been gone! Come on in, don't stand on the threshold. Cup of coffee? Tea? It’s always open for you, you know.

Norwood?! Really… oh my God, the dry-haired professor has such a mother?! Or is it my sister?

“Good evening,” I answered as neutrally as possible, so as not to betray my ignorance. It sounded warm – it was impossible not to smile in response to the smile of this amazing woman, who was endearing at first glance. “I’ve already chosen everything, so…

And she stammered in confusion. Politeness required assuring that “no, you won’t interfere in any way, and in general it’s time for me to go,” but to leave when the opportunity to find out something about the professor almost falls from the sky?! Even if the journalist’s habits didn’t resist, I’m not such a fool! But also to impose on communication, not knowing everything that Charlotte probably knows…

“Miss Blair, if you want to pick it up today, you’ll have to wait.” About fifteen minutes, no more, – the master very successfully came to the rescue. – Sabella, you…

– Don't worry, I'm in no hurry. And yes, I guess I’ll have some tea, as usual. Thank you, Grisella. Why don't you join me, Miss Blair? – She pointed to one of the round wicker tables on the opposite wall. Probably just for those… waiting ones.

– With pleasure!

Tea appeared in the same magical way as pizza. A pot-bellied teapot, two cups on saucers, a sugar bowl, a jug of milk… and lemon pudding with cinnamon, which finally removed the question of who was in front of me. Okay, almost definitively – the possibility of coincidences can never be discounted.

The tea smelled like mint and went wonderfully with the pudding – and the pudding was just as incredibly delicious as the pizza. Probably, in this world they cook exclusively with magic, and that’s why the magical result is obtained.

– They don’t serve delicious puddings at Panacea Academy? – Miss Norwood smiled, picking up another piece with a spoon.

“Not that much,” I almost blurted out the “I didn’t try it” that would have burned to the very core – she was amazingly conducive to frankness. She was struck with a sudden panic – how closely had the real Charlotte communicated with her? “Yes, Mrs. Norwood is often here”… But where – here? Judging by the manner of work of Professor Norwood, he would not tolerate visits to the department even from his beloved mother. Maybe in the same village where Charlotte lives? They could have crossed paths there by chance.

I don’t even know how “small” the world is of those involved in one way or another with the Panacea Academy! Maybe the mother of the professor and world luminary knows everyone there, or maybe just one or two who work next to her son or are friends with him. If he even has friends at the Academy, Charlotte didn’t mention them.

Well, one way or another, now I need to establish contact. Despite the fact that there are no topics for conversation, no clues or common interests. Perhaps Dougal, but you can’t say straight out: “I need to find out about your son! As much and as detailed as possible!”

“Besides, at the Academy, thoughts are occupied with everything but the taste of pudding,” I said with a smile. You can’t head-on – approach from afar, in tricky zigzags, or circle like a hungry shark, approaching the target. As best you can. Pick up the crumbs until a large and truly valuable piece falls. “Sometimes it seems like you don’t even notice what you had for lunch.” Enough more exciting problems.