Justine laughed, and I was grateful for the sound, even though it was sad. “No parts of this town have been friendly.”

Mary smiled tightly. “Perhaps I phrased that too gently. It is in a part of town that no woman should visit alone, and even two women should not venture if they are unaware of their surroundings.” She fastened her cloak and took a hat from a hook by the door, settling it on top of her hair and covering the pencil. “Also, I am wildly curious. I have seen the types of books Victor pursued. I would like to know what he has been doing with all his studies. And to know what could have possessed him, that he would shamefully neglect two such lovely and concerned friends.”

“We all would,” I muttered darkly, following her back out into the weeping city.

Chapter Six: Round He Throws His Baleful Eyes

AT ANOTHER TIME, I might have seen the charm of Ingolstadt. The steep roofs in warm oranges, the cheerily painted rows of homes along wide, open streets. There were several green park areas, and a cathedral soared over the city, keeping watch. I felt it on the back of my neck, tracking my movement. Its spires were sentinels, visible nearly everywhere we went. Was God watching? If so, what did he see? Did he care for the obstinate machinations of one small woman with only seventeen years to her credit?

If he was watching, that meant he had always been watching. And if he had always been watching, what a spiteful, mean old man he was to watch and do nothing. For me. For Justine.

No. Justine would insist that God had answered her prayers by sending me. And she would probably say that God had answered my prayers by sending Victor.

But that was not possible. I had not prayed as a child, and I certainly did not now. Surely God, so stingy with his miracles, would not answer an unoffered prayer. I did not repent of my distance from God. If I wanted help, I would find it for myself.

We passed an old building overlooking a city square. All colors were muted by the clouds and the rain, blending together like a palette of paint being rinsed clean. I knew from my study of the map that Mary was leading us toward the Danube River and the outskirts of the city. I had embraced confidence both for Justine’s sake and my own, but it was a relief to have someone else leading us. Since I joined the Frankensteins and we settled at the lake house, I had not been anywhere except Geneva. This city, pleasant though it might have been, was a stranger. And strangers were not to be trusted.