“Do you remember?” Asa whispered. “We were always burning up on the Ambrosia.”

“Asa.” I pulled my hands back and looked to the judge.

“He’s out, Frannie. And I meant we were always hot because it was summer. What did you think I meant?”

“Nothing.”

He laughed. “Definitely something. We are different now, aren’t we? You chiding me for being improper?”

He was making light, but I was struggling with embarrassment, and even more so with memories of how we used to be. An intense sadness swept over me. I came in search of Francisca Tasker, he’d said at Knyphausen’s. But I have yet to find her. “You prefer the girl you knew then, don’t you?”

The humor in his eyes vanished. “I’d rather not answer.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m determined not to be at odds with you anymore.”

“But you might as well just say it, ’cause I already know, Asa. I know you prefer her.”

“Frannie, why do you say ‘her’? She is you. You are still you.”

“But I’m not,” I said, and felt tears rising. “Frannie’s gone. She’s no more alive than the real Miss Coates.”

“No. That’s not true.” He turned, squaring his shoulders to me. “I see you. You’re here.”

An ache opened up in me that felt endless. “Am I?” I squeaked. I’d never wanted anything to be more true.

“Yes, Frannie. You’re right here.”

I hadn’t a prayer of holding my tears back. I dove into Asa’s shoulder and let go. I cried three years’ worth of lies, letting them wash out of me. Fierce tears. Frannie’s tears.

Mine.

Little by little, the pain eased and a pure, clean feeling replaced it. Freedom. Here, with Asa, I could say exactly what I wanted to say. As I surfaced from the hurt, I became aware of French words tumbling softly into my ear. I didn’t understand them, but it didn’t matter. The sound of his voice brought me all the way back.

I lifted my head. A handkerchief appeared before me. “Too late,” I said, taking it anyway. “I’ve already ruined your coat.”

“Nonsense. I like it much better now.”

“Now that I’ve cried all over it?”

“Precisely.”

I laughed, drying my eyes. I felt turned inside out, but so light. Like I’d drained an ocean. “What did you say just now?”

“Nothing you don’t already know. Look.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “Salt water. Proof you’re still Frannie.”

“Where’ve you been, Asa? Where’ve you been all this time?”

“You can’t imagine how much I’ve wanted to tell you.”

“Whoa,” crooned the driver, and the carriage slowed.

Asa brushed his sleeve over the window. New York’s wintry streets appeared on the other side. “We’re here.”

The carriage jostled to a halt and Judge Latimer blinked awake. “Asa, what—? Where—?”

“I’m walking Miss Coates to her door, Uncle. I’ll be right back.”

He climbed out and helped me down. I didn’t let go of his arm as we walked to the door. Asa knocked on it and I silently prayed it would never open. That I could stand at his side in the middle of a blizzard forever.