"What proof do you have of such a wild, and ultimately dangerous, accusation?" you fling back at him.
"Well, I ... well, the visits!" he replies. "You've always had some reason or another to leave the alienage just before the templars arrive the next day!"
"What a sick allegation," you reply calmly. "And far from corroborated with legitimate proof."
The old elf nods sharply, recognizing that he cannot technically prove his claim. He hasn't believed the lie, only the idea that, at least for now, there's nothing anyone can do without more concrete facts. "Yes," he says. "I don't have proof. Not yet. But when I do, the punishment for such an atrocious betrayal is exile. And until I'm able to cast the sentence officially, I doubt you'll find this community's reception any different than if you were gone."
The crowd grunts and nods their approval. You smile, and try to maintain your composure. "Come on, everyone. I just lost my sister. Surely you aren't--" You speak, but they've all turned their backs to you. "Tomias!" you exclaim, touching the shoulder of your next-door neighbor. "You don't believe--" He pulls his shoulder from your touch sharply without looking back to you.
Shaken, you head home to sleep. Perhaps answers will appear in the morning. Two hours later, you're awoken by a quiet, shuffling noise coming from somewhere inside the hut. You turn to look behind you, and are immediately faced by an unfamiliar elf. You're sure he's not from the alienage. He smiles at you.