I put everything back as I had found it and locked up the office. I could hardly believe that I had done it. Now all I had to do was return to Osan.

At the end of the corridor, the stairs creaked.

I froze. Swift footsteps, drawing near. I ducked inside the artist’s studio and pressed myself against the interior wall, out of sight of the corridor.

“—can talk in private.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

The plastered wall was rough and uneven against my back. I held my breath.

“You involved me in this mess, you don’t get to run away from it.” The first woman spoke in a low, forceful tone.

“We shouldn’t even be here. Let’s just go back to the party, okay? Please, Jesane?”

“Explain what you meant in the garden.”

The footsteps had stopped; the women stood outside the room. Their shadows lay across the threshold.

“What is there to explain? They need the seat, and there’s an easy way to vacate it.”

“So murder is easy for you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not murder.”

“Sure. Tell me, if I step out of line, can I expect the same?”

“No! Eater, you don’t understand at all.” The shadow threw up its hands. “I don’t like it, but it’s necessary. These people will destroy the Sisterhood.”

“How many?”

“What?”

“How many martyrs, Ilva? How many accidents?”

A long silence. My heart pounded, and there was a rushing in my ears, growing louder.

“I can’t believe this.” Footsteps, heading back toward the stairs. “I need some air.”

“Jesane!”

I had to be wrong; somehow I had misheard or misunderstood. The band fell silent, and voices from below the floor hummed like a swarm of insects. I stepped away from the wall. My head spun.

The dance hall had quietened when I returned to it; the guests gathered around the stage. Reverend Olwen Kisme, dressed in black, was speaking.

“It has been a privilege and a joy to serve alongside so many of you over the years,” she said. Her voice was hoarse. “To be honest, I feel that I could never spend enough time in your company.”

I quietly made my way along the back of the hall toward the exit.

“But my time has come,” she said heavily, with the intonation of someone who had practised the words for days. “It is an honour, and I take pride in my continued service to our Order and our home.”

I paused at the base of the stairs. My mouth tasted of ashes.

“Thank you all for coming,” she said, staring over our heads. “May the Star shine brightly on you.”

As I left, the image of her unfinished painting haunted me. That pale sky and the blank paper, the bare trees and the shadows that they cast.

CHAPTER

NINE

All Sisters feared three things, and the first was falling pregnant.