She ran all the way back to the castle. The front door was open as the butler carried bags through to Jeremy’s car. Nory didn’t stop to wait and see her friends off. She ran straight up the stairs and into her room, slamming the door behind her and hurling herself onto the bed. In another moment, her sobs were interrupted by an urgent banging on the door.

“Nory! What’s going on? Let me in!” shouted Ameerah.

Nory wrenched open the door and fell into her arms.

“Hey, come on now,” soothed Ameerah. “Tell me what’s happened. I saw you running across the lawn from my window. And where are your shoes?” She maneuvered Nory back into the bedroom, kicking the door closed with her foot, and sat them both down on the bed. “Okay, now tell me everything.” She peeled off Nory’s wet socks and covered her blue-tinged feet with a blanket.

“I’ve ruined everything.” Nory sobbed out the words. “What have I done? I’ve ruined everything.”

When she was a little calmer and the shaking from the violent cold had abated, Nory told her friend the whole sorry tale. From the first time she’d seen Heba’s botanical paintings, to her brilliant, slightly wine-fueled 3 a.m. idea to surprise Isaac by asking Guy to help her get the sketchbooks authenticated. Then she lay back on the pillows and waited for Ameerah’s verdict.

“Okay,” Ameerah said, gingerly picking up several soggy, balled-up tissues between her fingernails and flicking them into the bin. “I’m not going to lie to you; it’s a mess. I mean, Guy of all people!”

“He’s such a good journalist. It’s what he does. I thought he could help.” As she said the words, the ludicrousness of her idea came back to slap her cheek.

“Unfortunately, he’s not as good a person as he is a journalist,” Ameerah said, her mouth a straight line.

Nory had reached the stage of crying where she was technically all cried out, but her breath kept hitching as her diaphragm spasmed. She covered her face with her arm and moaned, “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”

“No,” agreed Ameerah. “Of course it wasn’t. Do you think Isaac will talk to you?”

“I don’t know. No, I don’t think so.”

“At the very least, he needs to know that you weren’t getting it on with Guy.”

Nory winced.

“Try messaging him,” Ameerah encouraged. “Do you want me to go round there?”

“I don’t know if that would help or make things worse.”

“Well, we need to get your boots back if nothing else.”

“And coat,” said Nory weakly.

Ameerah nodded. “Maybe we could send Dev over, man to man and outsider to outsider.”

“That could work.” Nory sniffed. “Maybe I could write Isaac a letter.”