And so Sydney and I had dropped out of contact with everyone for a while, finally telling the world we had a baby a few months after his supposed birthday. We claimed she’d gotten pregnant right after being rescued from re-education, and then we’d said he came early. We stayed away from people enough that we were able to fudge the dates and make it all seem plausible. If we seemed secretive in our actions, most people assumed it was because we were still nervous about the Alchemists. They’d held good on their word to leave us alone so far, but everyone understood why we might be wary.

It had also helped that we’d had excellent allies. There was no way Sydney and I could’ve pulled all this off without our friends. Rose and Dimitri had helped cover for us back at Court. My mom had been huge in helping watch Declan so that Sydney and I could still pursue other interests. Eddie had also helped take care of him, along with offering us much-needed protection. He was also the only one of us who’d finally gotten in touch with Neil in whatever undisclosed location he was at. Neil still kept his distance but had recently allowed Eddie to send updates and pictures, and our hope was that someday Neil and Declan could be back in each other’s lives.

“Look at him!” squealed Jill when I came down the stairs. “He’s gotten so big!”

Even Rose and Dimitri got in on the baby admiration. Whereas we’d seen Jill recently, it had been months and months since their last visit. Declan was probably a giant to them. “We should’ve brought him a silver stake,” Dimitri said. “I’m surprised Eddie hasn’t taught him already.”

Eddie, his arm resting on Jill, smiled. “We work on it right after morning nap.”

The living room door opened again, and Sydney stepped through, snowflakes in her blond hair, a backpack over one shoulder, and a paper bag in her arms. I quickly handed Declan to Jill and took the bags from Sydney. Inside the paper one, I saw French bread and some fruit. The backpack felt like it had a hundred books in it, which was probably true. She smiled up at me as she took her heavy coat off.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said. “The roads were bad.”

Underneath the coat, she wore a red wool dress and a nametag reading SYDNEY IVASHKOV, STUDENT DOCENT. “Exciting times at the museum?” I asked.

“Always,” she said, giving me a brief kiss on the lips.

“Better be careful in that dress,” I said. “Someone might mistake you for a work of art.”