People have come to Thedas who had died, she thinks. But she thinks, a moment later: one of them was Tony Stark. He knows that. The words that he's saying, that Wong is possible but Victor Strange isn't — Donna, never older than ten — those are not the words of a man regarding the whims of the Fade through analytical observation. It's Clarisse, on the verge of tears, certain that the vision of her father cannot be real because he would never come for her.

“You loved them,” she says, maybe just so one of them has said it out loud, this very true thing that is threaded through every twisting wince of pain in this conversation, “so it's a door that I would like to be behind, a little. I can't meet them, but they're important to you, I— I don't know.”

She does know, actually.

“I care about the things that are important to you. I don't need them to be things you can give me.”