Coco knelt in front of her, grasping her chin in her fingers. “They aren’t coming. Accept it. Move on. Better yet—switch sides. Nicholina, my aunt isn’t the person you want her to be. Morgane is even worse. They don’t value you. They don’t accept you. You’re a tool to them—a means to an end—just like the rest of us.”

“No.” The word tore from Nicholina in a guttural snarl, and she clawed at her own face, scoring the skin there. When I leapt to intervene, those nails raked down my chest instead. “You. I shall deliver you with the mouse, yes, yes, yes, and we shall cut your heart into thirds—”

Constantin tsked in disapproval and waved his hand. The mist answered by swirling around her in a violent tornado, trapping her in place. Nicholina howled in rage. “They will kill us both, stupid mouse. Stupid, stupid mouse. We cannot dance, no, but we can drown. Down, down, down, we can drown. There is no hope. Only sickness.”

Then she spoke again.

Warmth suffused my entire body.

“I thought you weren’t”—her voice pitched lower than before, and she gritted her teeth in concentration—“worried about dying? Or have you—finally—accepted the truth?”

Lou.

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t calm the racing of my heart. It was her. It was Lou.

The waters must’ve weakened Nicholina enough for her to break through, or—or perhaps they demanded truth, even now. They knew Nicholina didn’t belong. They knew whose body she inhabited.

Constantin sighed. “The bickering was diverting at first. Now it isn’t. Spill your truths, all of you, or leave this place in peace. I don’t have all night.”

“Really?” Lou fought to smile, still panting. “What else—do you have to do? This is—your sole purpose—isn’t it?”

He glowered at her. “Charming as always, Louise.”

She bowed, failing to hide her grimace as Nicholina threw them against the cage. “I—try.”

“Your truth,” he insisted, voice hard.

Her face spasmed, and when she opened her mouth once more, I wasn’t sure who spoke: Lou or Nicholina. Either way, their truth spilled from them unapologetically. Strong and without strain. “I am capable of great evil.” The words hung in the air between us, as sentient as the mist. They waited, coiled, for my response. For my clarification. For my own truth.

I looked directly in her eyes. “We all are.”