Pretty lips quivered. She stilled them with another smirk. “Ridiculous.”

“Faith motivated by love, Helga.”

Silence.

Milo said, “You loved Dahlia, nothing to be ashamed of, on the contrary. But it is downright fundamentalist, taking faith that far. You may not be religious, Helga, but you have no trouble drawing upon religion when it works for you.”

Helga Gemein rolled her eyes. Let loose with a ragged, too-loud laugh.

The sudden rise of her shoulders, the rippling along her jawline gave her away.

Milo said, “Sutma.” No answer.

“You’ve heard of sutma, Helga.”

“Primitive nonsense.”

“Maybe so, Helga, but the point was Prince Teddy and his family don’t agree.”

Waiting for a reaction to the name.

A single blink. Then nothing.

Milo said, “Or maybe it’s not just them. Maybe you really do believe in heaven and hell and all that good stuff. But that doesn’t really matter, Helga. The point is the sultan and the rest of the family believes and after what was done to Dahlia, you needed to grab hold of any shred of revenge you could find. Because Teddy’s out of your reach, geographically, financially, you can’t touch him. But cosmically? You burned those twigs in order to leave Teddy dangling in cosmic limbo. Downright terrifying for someone who believes in sutma.”

Silence.

He said, “It is a funny concept, though. If I was a religious person, I’d want to believe just the opposite—destroying material remains speeds up entry to the next world.”

He laughed, clapped his hands hard, sprang up, paced the room twice.

Helga watched, alarmed. Forced herself to stop following his circuit. Sat still as he came to a halt behind her.

She stared straight ahead, pretending not to care about the massive figure shadowing her.

Her jawline was an information highway.

“Reason I just laughed, Helga, is I had a sudden insight—an epiphany, I guess you’d call it. You’re totally into ritual. Like shaving your head. Since the first time I met you I’ve been trying to figure it out, why would you do something like that. But now I get it. It’s a ritual of self-abasement you took on until you achieved your goal. Like fasting on Lent—wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve done your share of that, too. Other kinds of fasting. Maybe even a vow of celibacy.”

Her jaw clenched.

“How long ago, Helga, did you start eating meat during Lent? If you ever did. Do you eat your Lent veggies and explain it as meta-ecology?”

Helga Gemein shut her eyes.

“Even so, it’s religion, Helga. Are you a strict vegetarian? Or do you sneak meat when no one’s looking?”

Silence.

“Once a Catholic, always a Catholic, Helga. Believe me, I know.”

She folded her arms. Let them drop. Began deep-breathing.