Victor stood with his back to me, in the middle of a whirlwind of destruction. Torn and shredded books encircled him. His chest heaved, his narrow shoulders shuddering as he screamed with a sound more animal than human. In his hand, he clutched a letter opener.

On the other side of the room, his parents stood, their backs to the wall, faces frozen in fear.

I could still choose to leave.

But Judge Frankenstein looked at me. He never looked at me. That day, there was desperate pleading in his eyes. And the heavy weight of expectation, as well.

Instinct took over. I had freed animals caught in traps. This felt the same, somehow. Humming low and deep in my throat, I approached Victor slowly. I reached up and gently stroked the back of his neck, the hum turning into a half-remembered lullaby. He froze, his frenzied breaths catching and then calming. I continued stroking the back of his neck, working my way around him until we were face to face. I looked up into his eyes, which were wide, the pupils dilated.

“Hello,” I said. I smiled at him.

He regarded me with that furrowed brow. I moved my hand from the back of his neck to his forehead, smoothing away his tension. “Elizabeth,” he said. He looked down at our feet rather than facing the destruction he had wrought.

I took the letter opener from his hand and set it down on a table. Then, holding his now-free hand, I said, “We should have a picnic.”

He nodded, still breathing too hard. I turned him toward the door. As we left the room, I glanced over my shoulder to see the abject relief and gratitude on his parents’ faces.

He had not hurt anything, not really, but he had succeeded in cementing my place in their family. I might have been his, but he was mine. After that day we were truly inseparable.

—

“He needs me, too,” I said.

“What?” Justine asked, pausing in front of a house with a dreary gray door.

I shook my head. “Look, there!” Across the street was a bookshop. It squatted beneath an overhanging residence that left the windows in perpetual shadow.

This time I waited to be certain we would not be killed by a passing horse, but only for Justine’s sake. Then I dragged her across the cobblestones as quickly as I could. Anxiety choked me as I pushed through the heavy door of the shop.

A bell chimed in muted resignation, signaling our entrance to the cramped stacks and dangerously leaning shelves. Where the library had been stately and impressive, this room was overwhelming and claustrophobic. How one could begin to find a sought-after treasure in here was beyond me.