There's a lull in conversation, and then Adarin realizes something. "... Oh, hell. I think she can take things, along with adding things."
"That's consistent with what I saw. What are you missing?"
"... My dad. None of what I did before I met her makes sense unless I loved him." He winces. "And now I don't."
"Yeah. I - I don't even know why she would, why would she even -" Adarin stops, because he sounds like he's about to cry. "... What did it gain her?" he says, trying again.
He nods. "Yeah. I - it might be because he died and I remember missing him?"
"Maybe she thought that was depressing. There seemed to be a lot of emphasis on being - happy. Maybe she took it before she knew he was dead and didn't want you to leave to go back to him. Maybe she considered it untidy to have anyone with affections for people who didn't live in the house."
Adarin shudders. "... I can't even imagine. Thinking it's a good idea to just - take away love. Because it's convenient."
"She needed to die, but I wish she could have gotten - help, mental help. Obviously something was wrong with her."
Adarin sighs. "Yeah. It's not like we can do anything about it now."
"I'm not sure I'd want to see what kinds of things she'd have made, frankly."
"Maybe she should've talked to animals. Made friends with them instead."
"Yep. She could have had fifteen pets and never hurt a person. But no."
"Was it even obvious that she was the - center, of the household?"
"N-" He stops. "... Not while I was there, but now that I think of it, it's so - obvious. When I was there it was like she was just a great friend and the nicest of all of us and good at making friends and - and now I see that wasn't it."
"I wasn't sure who it was until she tried to cast a spell on me, although I could rule out the plant mage and the builder seemed plausible too. But I didn't have long to observe."