Now I needed him, and he would be found.

“We know Henry found him,” Justine continued, gaining confidence as she steadily talked herself into leaving. “Perhaps they went abroad, or pursued studies elsewhere. Naturally, a gap in communication could be expected then. Letters get lost, or delayed. I am certain if we go home, something will be waiting.” She finally tipped her head back up, beaming in anticipation. “Ernest will be so relieved to have us home. He will run up with the letter! And with little William on my lap, we will laugh and laugh at the poor timing that would have saved us this whole miserable trip!”

Justine’s imaginative theory was plausible. But her scenario held no comfort for me. I refused to believe that Victor had gone on from this city. Not yet. Victor had promised that one day we would tour the continent together. Return to Lake Como. Trek through the ominous and wild Carpathians. Explore ruins in Greece. All the places we had read about.

And besides, with the last letter Henry sent me, I could not imagine any scenario in which they had reconciled.

I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I have one more place to look. Please?”

She sighed, already letting go of her true desires for my sake. She wanted nothing more than to be back at the Frankensteins’ isolated manor, tucked away in the nursery with little William. And I was keeping her from it. “What if he forgets me?” she had asked on the way here, as though a five-year-old would forget the woman he knew better than his mother. The woman who had taken over entirely when his mother died. A few days in the care of the daft maid would not replace Justine.

“Where else can we look?” she asked.

“The place you always go when you need answers.” I grinned, taking her hand and leading her back to the street. “The library.”

Chapter Five: With Purpose to Explore or to Disturb

RICH DARK WOOD, POLISHED by both time and careful hands, grew from the floor to the ceiling in perfect straight lines. In place of branches, shelves. In place of leaves, books.

Oh, the books.

I was light-headed from breathing in as deeply as possible, trying to absorb the knowledge here by sheer force of will. I trailed my hands along a row of spines, their worn leather bindings labeled with gold because of the treasure contained inside.

“Can I help you young ladies?” A man glared at us. His face was pinched around a pair of spectacles, having slowly grown to fit them rather than finding a pair that fit his face. His skin was as pale and stretched as the parchment he guarded.

I wanted more time with the books. I wanted to spend the day in a quiet corner, sitting against a window, lost in words and worlds I had never been given access to.