She smiled. “It pleases me to hear you say that. I know you lost her too soon.” Her smile faded away. “I pray for you, Miss Em. Every night, I pray you find your place.” She snapped the valise shut.

“I have a place. It’s here,” I replied. But by the time I said it, she was no longer in the room.

Half an hour later, I stepped into the judge’s grand home on Golden Hill. A fire blazed in the parlor, roaring with heat. We made for it immediately, too cold to suffer through proper greetings.

“You are kind to take us in, Judge,” said Aunt Nora.

“My pleasure, of course,” he replied. “And at a most timely juncture, as it happens. Dr. Holdridge is upstairs ministering to my nephew. I’m afraid Asa is unwell.”

“Asa?” I looked up from the flames. “But he left New York.”

Judge Latimer fixed a long gaze on me, filled with the unspoken. “He tried to go. He made several attempts to sail out of the harbor, but the ice prevented him. He’d planned to go overland to Boston this week, but then…this.”

This.

This changed everything.

Suddenly, I couldn’t catch my breath.

As Aunt Nora and Lucy saw to the unloading of our baggage, the judge stepped close and bowed his head to mine. “Miss Coates, my nephew has never said a word that would lead me to think he’d want you with him at this time, but—” One hand came to his mouth, his long fingers fluttering, then fell away. “He is very ill, Miss Coates. Very. And it would mean everything to me if you would go to him. I fear you may not have another chance.”

I flew upstairs like I’d grown wings.

Instinct took me right to Asa’s bedroom. He lay in bed, his eyes closed. His cheeks were bright crimson with fever—but the rest of him was so pale, so bloodless, he looked like he’d been dusted with chalk. His body trembled weakly. He looked like a young hero under some sort of evil spell. Like death had chosen him.

I felt myself swoon, old memories rushing back. “How is he?” I asked.

Uncle Henry looked up from a chair by Asa’s bedside. “Better not answered,” he replied evenly. “Morning may tell us more.”

I stood, trying to understand what that meant. Trying to make it mean something different. Then I brought a chair from the corner of the room and sat beside Uncle Henry.

“Dear Emmie,” he said, smiling. “There’s no need to keep me company. This is what I do.”

“Thank you, Uncle, but I’ll stay.” Nothing was going to make me leave. Nothing. I’d seen Asa at the brink before. This time, I wouldn’t leave his side. “Is there anything I can do, Uncle? Can I—”

“Francisca,” Asa breathed. His eyes opened—barely. “Est-ce vous, Comet?”

“Pay no mind to anything he says,” Uncle Henry said. “ ’Tis from the fever. The delirium is setting in.”