"So, here's a trick question," Ariadne says, dropping herself onto a bar stool near Eames and giving him a wry, suspicious look, "are you real? Or are you a projection?

Or," she adds, rubbing at the back of her neck under her hair, "I suppose you could be a forger pretending to be Eames, except that's getting way too complicated."

Particularly as the bishop in her jacket pocket has its correct weight.