The monster and the angel. They were one and the same. Yet possibly, even with me here, still at war.

Eventually, unable to withstand my own curiosity, I gathered up Erik’s music and retreated with it to the bed, telling myself I only wanted to sort through it in case the lyrics might hold some key to understanding him.

By his own testament, the words that looped along beneath the notes had been written by Wrath’s hand. Yet there wasn’t so much as an ounce of anger in any of them. Beauty and sorrow infused in the melody instead.

My heart twisted at the words that demanded careful reading. Simple and elegant, they painted his feelings in stark black and white, and like a spell, they drew me in.

He’d written a love song.

First my abduction and then his proposal. And now this?

What else could it mean, except that Erik had somehow, some way, fallen in love with me? And if that were the case, did that mean he had, too? Zedok?

“It is rather confusing, isn’t it?” said Envy.

The retort caused my head to jerk in the direction of my wardens. Because I hadn’t spoken my inquiry aloud. Was it possible she had heard my thoughts? The way Envy now stared at me, as though she was waiting for an answer, suggested she had.

“Yes, dear Envy,” said Spite, her voice tight and full of warning. She gave Envy a thwap with her fan. “Your asking random questions is rather confusing.”

They bowed their heads together and raised their fans again, as if they had lips I could read, and returned to their viper hissing.

Setting the music aside, I rolled over in the bed, giving them my back, but then the spot next to me, empty of my little sister’s sleeping form, became just another torture. It was then that I gave up on sleep. Abandoning Myriam’s room and Erik’s music, I went to roam the house, going from room to room, telling myself I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. That wasn’t entirely true, though.

After scouring the house and finding no trace of him—well, other than his masks, which refused to interact with me—I started checking the windows and the grounds. That was just an act of avoidance, though. Because I already knew where he had to be hiding.

When I began to make my way toward the kitchen, however, my masked companions took pains to obstruct my way. Pushing past them, I found myself standing just outside the closed basement door.

The very last door I’d yet to try.

He was down there. He had to be.

Stalled outside the basement, I focused on the door handle and willed myself both to concentrate on the list of things I needed to address with him and to just do it already.

Don’t knock. Don’t deliberate. Just go.

“Do tell her the basement is forbidden,” hissed Envy, elbowing Spite.

“We’re not to speak to her, you ninny,” said Spite. “Really, is it that hard to remember?”