I could have kissed his papery cheek! Instead, I settled for the more appropriate gift of a blinding smile. His own lips, unused to that expression, twitched upward as though remembering what such happiness felt like.

“Thank you!” I took Justine’s elbow and spun her, practically running out of the building.

“Slow down,” she cautioned. She grabbed my arm to stop me before I stepped into the street just as a carriage clattered past.

I laughed, breathless with nerves. “You have saved me! See, we are finally even.”

“Oh, Elizabeth.” She tucked a strand of hair fallen free from my hat back into place, pulling a pin out of thin air to secure it. “Are you hungry? Should we find somewhere to eat before talking to the bookseller?”

I could see the exhaustion in her face. Normally it would be enough for me to acquiesce, but I could not. Not when I was so close.

Or so far.

Because if this bookseller did not know how to find Victor, I had no other ideas. And I could not stand the tension of delaying either reality: finding Victor, or having to go home without him as protection.

—

The Frankensteins took me from Lake Como and on their travels through the rest of the continent. I was too young to appreciate anything other than a full belly and no one hitting me. But not so young that I did not realize the precariousness of my situation. When we finally approached their secluded residence, located across a lake from Geneva and accessible only by boat, it was as though I was being rowed across the sky. It was a brilliantly clear day, the water around us a perfect reflection of cloudless blue.

The house appeared in the trees like something from a fairy tale. Lying in wait and ready to devour us. Sharply angled roofs cut like teeth against the sky. Everything was pointed—the windows, the doors, even the wrought-iron gates that slowly swung open to admit us.

I instinctively knew this house was a predator. But I was clever like a rabbit, fast and smart and tiny. I took Madame Frankenstein’s hand and beamed up at her.

“Oh,” she said, always surprised when she remembered me. She smiled, stroking my hair. “You will like it here. It will be good for Victor. Better. Better for us all.”

I was taken to a room by one of the three servants they kept. The four posters of the bed echoed the lines of lead through the windowpanes, all of them like bars in a cage. But the mattress was soft and the blankets warm. Thus every small animal is lulled into security.