Laila saw the past.

She saw Séverin reaching for his tin of cloves and an extra packet of matches for Zofia. She saw his mouth curving into a grin as he listened to Enrique’s newest historical finding. She saw his eyes lift to hers before he winked as if they were in on a secret.

The present was a different beast.

None of them had removed their masks. Séverin’s smile fell. For a brief moment, he looked like a pilgrim: worn and penitent. On a mirror behind him in the hall, Laila saw what he must see before him. Robed figures with cruel masks, judges from another world sent to weigh his sins.

Hypnos was the first to throw back his mask.

“You found us!” said Hypnos, grinning. “I knew you would!”

Séverin returned his smile with genuine warmth … and relief.

Against her will, Laila remembered how the blankness had stolen through her last night at the mascherari salon … how texture turned slippery, sound faded, colors bled to white … until he touched her. She remembered how beautiful he looked in the dark room. How wounded.

I would find you anywhere.

“Oh, come now, we can’t stay in those stuffy monstrosities,” said Hypnos, gesturing at his face.

Enrique grumbled as he removed his mask. Séverin looked at him eagerly, but Enrique didn’t make eye contact. Next went Zofia. Her expression jolted Laila.

When Zofia had returned from the gondola trip, she’d told Laila how she had lost Hela’s letter. Laila knew that for someone like Zofia, the panic of the unknown was far worse than whatever news lay inside the envelope. She’d tried comforting her friend, promising they could send word once all this was over, that surely her family must have contacted L’Eden, and as soon as it was safe, they would get in touch with their Parisian staff. But Zofia had remained stiff-faced, terrified and silent. Until now.

When Séverin appeared, something in Zofia shifted. Her shoulders dropped. The tightness around her mouth relaxed. It hit Laila all over again that no matter what he’d done to them, some part of them trusted that Séverin could fix anything.

Her jaw tightened.

The same could not be said for her.

She could feel Séverin’s gaze on her face. His lips tightened … as if in sympathy. Did he think she hid her face because her emotions were so vivid, she could not control herself? Did he think he was being merciful by indulging the privacy of her mask?

Séverin stepped forward, eyeing them hopefully. Warily.

“I … I know that what I did was…”

“Irrelevant right now?” said Laila. She tossed back her mask, her eyes blazing. “You found us. Good. For now, I’d rather focus our attentions on the map to Poveglia. I’ve done as much intel as I could. What do you have for us, Séverin?”

“Other than remorse in your heart?” said Hypnos. “A sufficient amount of guilt, perhaps, that we might all move on?”