Declan liked coming to the Fenway Studios at the end of the day when Jordan was just waking up for her workday, which lasted all night. He liked that without any conversation they’d decided it was right for him to sit in the antique leather chair by the window and tell her about his day while she worked at her canvases. He liked that she had begun painting him again, although she refused to show him this portrait. He liked that she was trying to make him her sweetmetal. He liked watching her create her copies of El Jaleo and Madame X, her ability with the brush never failing to transfix him as she forged layer upon layer in oils, same as when he had first glimpsed her at the Fairy Market. Virginie Amélie Avegno Gautreau.

Jordan Hennessy.

He thought about her all the time.

He liked it all. He liked it very much.

“What are you thinking?” Matthew asked.

“What?”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not thinking about anything, Matthew, I’m just waiting for Jordan like you are.”

The two brothers lingered in the Dutch Room in the Gardner museum, killing time until Jordan was meant to meet them for late lunch. Breakfast for her, since she probably was only just now waking up.

“You are thinking, though,” Matthew insisted. He had that whinge to his voice that indicated today was going to be one of his tricky days. “You’re thinking of things you’re going to talk about with Jordan. Why don’t you talk about them with me?”

He wasn’t wrong, which was an impressive display of discernment on his part. But it was no less aggravating. Declan said, “Because you’re two different people. I’m not going to copy-paste a conversation.”

“You just think I’m stupider than her,” Matthew said. “You save all the smart things to talk about with her and then just point out people walking dogs to me.”

“Do you or don’t you like it when I point out dogs?” Declan asked.

Matthew groused. “I don’t only like when you point out dogs. I want to know what you’re doing. What you’re, like, you know, thinking.”

“Fine,” Declan said. “I was wondering if these paintings are sweetmetals. If that’s why they were stolen.”

The green-wallpapered Dutch Room in the Gardner was notable for many things, including a Rembrandt self-portrait, a few Rubens, and some very excellent historical furniture, but it was now probably most famous for the things that weren’t there.