Broomi checks in on her mother, Bonnie

Broomi prayed that she'd find her mother doing something normal in the kitchen... that prayer went unanswered, like so many of her others, as she found the kitchen empty. She clicked her teeth. A part of her was increasingly worried... what if the people of the town took that manual to mean they could fuck whoever they want, even if it meant coercing a harmless produce lady at the market or breaking into her home? A sickened feeling was building in her gut.

She felt a sigh of relief escape, once she picked up on sounds coming from outside, near the garden. Those sounds would either be her adopted brother, Brocken, practicing his swordsmanship against the makeshift training dummy / scarecrow, or else, her mother tending the vegetables. Either way, it was normal... and as much as she'd asked for a change earlier, she had to admit, it had been shortsighted of her not to think about her family's part in it. Brocken was strong enough that there was no need to worry about him. Her mother, Bonnie, though... Broomi didn't want to think about her mom being taken advantage of by some random man she'd never met.

When she opened the door to their small backyard area, she found the sun shining down, angled just right in spite of those obstructive buildings to either side. It was a beautiful day... birds were singing, church-bells were ringing, and her mom was the same as always. The matron of the Jean-Bromide family was dressed in her gardening gear, with a tied white head scarf and neck-scarf, along with a heavy green apron and plain brown dress. Even dressed so plainly, she was a beauty, with the generous bosom and hips that fate had seen fit to deny Broomi herself. The only traits that made the two of them look related at all were their lightly freckled faces and their bushy brown hair. Of course, her mother was no tomboy... she wore hers a bit longer, in a long ponytail that never held a straight shape, instead frizzing out behind her back.

Broomi had never been so hear the gardening tune of her normal, undisturbed mother. She smiled and waved one hand, introducing herself. "Mooom!"

The lady started and grew red-faced, as though she'd been caught masturbating. The reaction made no sense.

"B-B-Broomi!" Bonnie gasped, holding both hands of her farming tool tightly in two hands. It occurred to Broomi now that, for whatever reason, her mother was holding the hoe straight against the earth... in fact, it didn't look like she'd accomplished much gardening at all, despite the song she'd been singing. "A-A-Aren't you... s-sweeping the church today?" the lady inquired, her pink lips curving into a slight smile.

Broomi narrowed her eyes suspiciously. The innocent widowed lady was just about the worse liar in the entire city of Merridan... It wasn't hard at all to tell something was amiss. "Mooom...?" Broomi asked, putting on the critical face of the church's confessor rather than the childish face of a daughter. "I finished early," she lied, tossing aside the broken broom she was holding. "What are you doing out here?"

The lady gave an innocent, beaming smile and crossed her hands behind the hoe, but continued holding both to it. "Why... I was just... tending the garden," she spoke slowly. She was certainly sweating as though she'd been tending the garden, that was for sure.

"Mooom..." Broomi repeated, walking closer with her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes further. "Why is there an extra pair of shoes by the front door? Is somebody else here?"

The lady bit her lip nervously, then shook her head, indicating no while all the rest of her body language indicated yes.

".... Kay," Broomi nodded, putting on an unassuming frown and moving her arms to cross them at her chest. "But, just in case... I'm going to pray to Geod and dispel any illusions that might be lingering over the garden. That's okay with you, right?"

"N-No! Anything but that!" Bonnie pleaded, with small tears forming in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Broomi! I'll tell you the truth!"

Broomi felt conflicted. Her mom, Bonnie, had basically admitted that there was an illusion covering the garden, hadn't she? It felt mean, but... maybe it was best to go ahead and clear the illusion? After all, it might not even be her real mother she was speaking to. Bonnie wasn't just a bad liar, she was a habitual truth-teller... it was hard to imagine her lying about anything, unless she'd been tricked or **** into it.