A chill creeps down her spine. 

A woman's voice from behind her states flatly: "No."

...

Yvette carefully looks towards the source of the voice, face helpfully neutral.

A neutral face looks right back at her, framed by red-dyed hair. The woman standing across the room looks twenty, maybe thirty — too old for a Lilim, anyway. Her dark clothing hugs her form tightly: a sensible black shirt, dark pants, running shoes. No jewelry. No tie. Her sole accessory is the small pistol that nestles against one of her hips. 

"Lilim don't get sick."

She has absolutely no idea who this person is, but this does not look like one of her parents. Let's - play it smart.

"I was wondering more in the sense of whether or not they could be made sick, by magic."

"Perhaps. The Shadows have all sorts of nasty abilities." 

The unfamiliar woman's expression isn't. 

"Something to be mindful of," says Yvette, neutrally, and then she goes back to her research while internally cursing her luck about not being able to feign sickness to get all of this researching done.

The unfamiliar woman sits down at Yvette's small table, and looks out the window.

Well that's a bit unnerving, but it doesn't bother Yvette very much. And she's a bit wary of potentially doing things her hypothetical self wouldn't do, so - she'll just. Do nothing, she guesses, about that.

She seems to have gotten all of the information from her computer that she can for now, and her diary is still quite encrypted. She'll - see about studying cryptography, then. Where's the beginner's book on it?

When Yvette goes over towards the bookshelf, the woman at the table speaks up. 

"Looking for information on your past?"

This woman is very disconcerting aaa.

"... Yes. My diary is encoded, I need to decipher it to read it."

She stands up: her presence fills the room, like something cold and rotting. "I can help you with that, if you'll give me your palm." 

Yvette considers, then offers her palm.

The unnerving woman looks at Yvette's expression. Her lips curve up. She shows her teeth. It is technically a smile. (What is she trying to do with her eyes?)

She takes Yvette's palm in her hands. "I'm going to read your past. Don't worry, this is completely harmless."

It sounds like she's said the same thing a thousand times before. 

Yep, super disconcerted, that's Yvette. But she's got a good poker face, and the unnerving woman isn't nearly as bad as a shadow, so... She'll deal.

"Okay. Go ahead."

The woman focuses inward on Yvette's palm, and the repulsive aura redoubles. Her hands seem cold, slimy, abhorrent in the way a dead body would be abhorrent - but she's holding on tightly, now, studying the lines of Yvette's palm. 

Her red irises lighten, becoming a pale, luminescent orange. 

"When you were building the cipher for your diary, you consulted page fifty-seven of the third book from the left in your cryptography section, along with page one hundred and sixty seven from the second book from the right." 

"That - is exceedingly helpful, thank you," says Yvette, sincerely, smiling a little.

Aaaaaand now she can have her hand back, yes? Please? She would like her hand back now.

She can have her hand back.

Excellent, her composure could only last for so long.

She retrieves the aforementioned books, and turns to the correct pages on both before she forgets them. Then: diary! And now to try decoding it.

The woman seems to want to watch over her shoulder. 

"You're Ishmerai's ally, right?" she asks, perhaps a bit too late.

She nods. "Her bodyguard."

"And... were you also, uh, snatched by the shadows?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry. Unless you're, uh, happy about it?"

"Do I look happy?"