“I really don’t think I can.”

“Nonsense. If you’ve come all this way, one more little hop over the sea isn’t going to be a problem. You are stronger than you think.”

“It’s not the plane.” Emily looked back toward the house, to where she could see Tyler hovering by the back gate, pretending to be absorbed in his phone, but every so often his head would lift in their direction.

Antoine followed her gaze. “She paired you up for a reason.”

He offered Emily his arm, and the two of them walked slowly up the path. Part of her wanted to stay, to hide away in Antoine’s gilded palace and do nothing but paint, to learn all of his secrets and discover more about who her grandmother used to be. But she also knew that hiding was no longer the answer. She just didn’t know if she had it in her to keep going, with him, with Tyler.

“I suspect he’s not as bad as you fear.” Antoine tucked Emily’s hair behind her ear, exposing her scar.

“Would you have said the same thing about Noah?”

“Some people are beyond redemption, my darling.”

Thousands of feet above the ground, stuck inside a metal container that was hurtling itself through the atmosphere, Emily sat and tried to remember how to breathe. Accepting you have no control is terrifying and the biggest, hardest thing anyone ever has to learn.

“The bar-headed goose has been heard flying across Mount Makalu, which is over twenty-seven thousand feet above sea level,” Emily whispered the words to herself as her fingers flicked against the arm of her seat.

“You okay?” Tyler watched the movement of Emily’s lips, leant forward to try to hear what it was she was muttering, but she turned her head away, lifted a tumbler of ice and whiskey to her lips, allowed herself another sip.

The pills Antoine had given her were slow to take effect. The rapid beat of her heart, the way she couldn’t keep her toes from tapping on the carpeted floor, all of it was making her feel decidedly uneasy.

Not to mention the very close proximity of the two lovebirds over there, so close that she could see the absence of pores, of any imperfection, on Phoebe’s face. Neither of them had even asked if she could join the search; Phoebe had simply hopped on the plane, and Emily now wished she had found the courage to stand up to Tyler, to say no.

“One and a half hours,” she told herself, tried to ignore the small jolt of turbulence. There was just over an hour to go.

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

Emily looked down to see Phoebe’s hand on her thigh but didn’t quite have the strength to swat it away.

“I had to explain,” Tyler cleared his throat as he spoke. “You know, about the car.”

Emily narrowed her eyes, bit back the urge to throw something at him.

“There are no rules to grieving.” Phoebe’s hand had moved up to give Emily’s arm a gentle squeeze, and she shied away. “When my grandmother died, she requested that no one talk for an entire day, so that we could all think of her in our own way.”