The room is simple, but everything screams of wealth. I don’t look at the round bed in the corner. There’s a well-stocked bar, and a wide expanse of polished floorboards and low-pile rugs with abstract designs. Zeal Chairs are parked discreetly in the corner of the room.

Next to him is Sal, the owner of Zenith. He’s a tall man, thin and elegant. He wears rings on all his fingers and a dark green suit, the cravat at his neck a vivid blue that matches his eyes. It looks old-fashioned, almost Edwardian, but then Tila said he was like that: picking bits of the past and interweaving them into his look. Sal is one of the few people that Tila genuinely respects. He took a chance on her by taking her on at the club, trained her up, and always treated her well. She spoke of him sometimes, over dinner. He’s meant to be fiercely protective of his employees and he prides himself that Zenith has had no scandals, no violence.

Until three days ago. I feel nervous that he knows about the switch between me and my sister. How trustworthy is Sal, really? I asked Nazarin about it earlier, right before I went up to change into Tila’s clothes.

“From all we can tell, he’s fairly clean,” he reassured me. “There’s nothing connecting him to the Ratel. There’s a chance of course that he’s covered his tracks well, but it’s a risk we have to take. For an exorbitant sum, he’s keeping very quiet.”

“Tila told me once that he prides himself on keeping his word,” I responded.

Detective Nazarin nodded. “We have to hope that’s true.”

The door closes behind me. “We thank you for your assistance with this investigation, Mr. Kupka,” Detective Nazarin begins.

He waves his arm. “Call me Sal, please. And we all know it’s in my best interests as well as yours.” He looks me up and down. “My, but you do look just like Tila. It’s nice to meet you, Taema.”

I incline my head. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Tila’s spoken well of you.”

I notice he doesn’t call my sister Echo. The man before me looks polite, and a small smile rests on his face. I glance around the room, swallowing. There’s absolutely no trace of a crime scene, but this is the room where it happened. Did Tila sit on that very sofa on the night that tore both our lives apart?

I lean against one of the pillars of the room. It’s rude, but I can’t bear the thought of sitting down. Why are we meeting in this room, and not the others? I bring up the logs again. Ah. Because all the other rooms in Zenith are booked, and even if Sal wants to help us, he doesn’t want to eat into his profit.