Suspect

The lights turned red. Louisa, in the enormous garden, watched as the fascinating clouds glided over the orange-lit sky. She stepped through the lime green grass, her feet dipping mildly, with every movement. The crispy breeze whipped through her hair and past her cheeks. She was enjoying the evening walk very much. But not so much as the company of the person who was by her side.

"And this also," said Mrs. Phellipe suddenly, "can be particularly good for your health. Though the day is fading swiftly, the air on this side does seem to always retain its peculiar freshness."

"Hm." Louisa heaved a sigh, clearly not in the mood to indulge much with that woman. She could not yet figure out why that person had taken a sudden interest in her wellbeing but if Louisa should strike a guess, her explanation would be something to do with Mrs. Phellipe's conscience.