When I first discovered the bones, I thought I’d be content to prevent Latham from changing the past. But the Grand Council seems no closer to apprehending him than they were when I first arrived at Ivory Hall. And if he has someone on the inside—maybe even someone on the council—it seems unlikely they will. As I’ve thought about everything I’ve seen in Latham’s past and in his future, the shape of his plan has begun to emerge in my mind. Once he has my bones, he can heal each of Gran’s individually, carefully choosing the paths that will shape his life any way he pleases. And understanding his plan has made my own crystallize.

I’m not content with preserving the past anymore. If the Grand Council can’t find Latham to punish him, then I’ll do it with the bones he broke. I’ll change his past to give him the worst possible outcomes.

I’ll gift him with the future he deserves.

I just need to figure out how to do that without the benefit of my own bones to complete the spell. And for that I’ll need Bram’s help.

But something inside me recoils at the thought of approaching him for help. We haven’t been alone since the other night when I all but confessed I was still in love with him. And he didn’t return the sentiment.

I’ve been avoiding him.

My heart is too bruised to risk it again. And yet I can’t stop picturing Bram’s lips inches from mine. That unexpected swell of hope that crashed into bitter disappointment. I take a deep breath. I need to pull myself together. There’s too much at stake to let my wounded pride stand in the way of doing whatever I can to stop Latham and find my mother’s bones.

Before I can change my mind, I hurry to the men’s dormitory and tap softly on Bram’s door. He probably didn’t hear. I should try again, but I hesitate, my fist suspended in midair, willing myself to knock. This was a terrible idea.

I turn to leave, but just then the door swings open.

“Saskia?”

Bram’s hair is mussed, as if I’ve woken him from a nap. His feet are bare. My stomach flutters.

I give him an apologetic smile. “Can I come in?”

His gaze darts to Rasmus, and then back to me. He opens the door wider and gestures for me to come inside.

“I’m sorry,” I say after the door clicks shut behind me. “Having a bodyguard makes things awkward.”

“Sure,” Bram says lightly, “that’s what makes it awkward.”

What little confidence I had vanishes. “Should I not have given you details? About the other path, I mean?”

He rakes his hands through his hair. Paces around the tiny space. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”