“Your mother is the reason I moved to Midwood,” Bram says. “Did she ever tell you that?”

Grief pushes up my throat. Because even though I knew, it wasn’t my mother who told me. She rarely confessed her good deeds, and it was only after her death that I realized how many lives she’d changed for the better.

“No,” I say, my voice tight, “she didn’t.”

“She rescued me at a dark time in my life. The least I can do is help you return her bones to Midwood, where they belong. I owe her that. And Latham”—a muscle jumps in his jaw—“I’d love nothing more than to see him suffer for what he did.”

“But is this really the best way to go about it?”

“Do you want my help or not? Because I don’t see another option.”

“Of course I do. I just—”

Bram reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind my ear, and I freeze mid-sentence. My thoughts go hazy and spiral away. The gesture is so real, so familiar, it fills up that empty, aching part of me that reading my other path always leaves behind.

“For the benefit of our audience,” he says in a low voice. The backs of his fingers still linger on the side of my face.

My heart ices over and fractures into two distinct halves—fantasy and reality. The Bram who loves me, and the Bram who is only playacting. The Saskia who had a chance for happiness and the Saskia who does not.

I can’t mix them up. I have to remember what is real and what isn’t.

“I’m trying to act natural,” I tell him, through clenched teeth. I’m answering both his spoken concerns and my unspoken ones. How can I convince Bram I’m acting while simultaneously convincing Rasmus that I’m not?

“Try harder.”

It’s good advice for both sets of worries.

By the time the ship docks in Leiden, Rasmus has begun rolling his eyes every time he sees me with Bram.

Tessa says it’s a good sign.

The town is on the coast, and from the small river port, we can see the black stone of the craggy shoreline in the distance. A small lighthouse perches on a hill nearby. Waves slam into the rocks, sending up sprays of foamy water. It’s desolate, but beautiful.

“Welcome back to land,” the ship’s captain says as we prepare to disembark. He’s holding a large, flat leather pouch that he waves in the air. “I was told to give you this upon your arrival. Who wants it?”

Jacey jumps up and snatches it from his hands, and the captain chuckles. “Good luck. I’ll see you in two days for your journey back to the capital.”

I hurry off the ship after Jacey, but when I set foot on the pier, my breath catches.

Leiden. The City of Glass.