One day not long after Victor’s departure, the cook took ill. With no one to go to town to collect supplies, I eagerly volunteered and insisted Justine come with me.

She wrung her hands. “What about the boys?”

“Justine, you have not left this house since you got here! Surely you deserve an afternoon off. The maid will look in on them, and Ernest is old enough to be in charge for a few hours. Right, Ernest?”

He looked up from his one-sided game of chess. “I can do that for Justine! You should go and—” He paused, his face screwing up in thought as he tried to come up with something a woman might enjoy. “You should go and buy some ribbons!”

“Three ribbons!” William added. He had recently turned three and was obsessed with the number.

Justine laughed. She kissed Ernest and kissed and hugged little William far longer than a few hours’ absence demanded. Then, finally, I got her out of the house and across the lake.

My last trip to Geneva had yielded me Justine. I had no hopes for an equally fortuitous trip this time, but it was a relief to be out of the house. Victor had just written of getting settled in Ingolstadt, telling me of his professors and his rooms. I had imagined it so fully I felt as though I were actually there.

But I was not. I was still here.

Geneva, at least, offered some distraction. Justine dutifully bought three red ribbons so she could show them to Ernest as proof that his idea was good and count them with William. She also found some candy for the boys, though why they deserved any extra kindness from the woman who spent all her waking hours being kind to them, I did not know.

We were in the middle of the market picking out vegetables when a shrieking demon flew into Justine, knocking her to the ground.

“You monster!” the demon screamed, and I realized it was Justine’s mother. “You killed them!”

Justine struggled beneath her mother, the woman’s hands like claws tearing at her face and her clothes. I dropped my things and yanked her away from Justine.

“Madame!” I shouted. “Calm yourself!”

Justine’s mother’s chin was covered with spittle as she continued shouting the most profane accusations. “You sold yourself to witches! The devil claimed you as his own the day you were born! I knew it! I could feel it! I tried my best to beat it out of you, but you won! You won, you wicked creature! Damnation on you!”

Justine was sitting on the ground, crying. “What did I do?”

“Nothing!” I answered.