Lara hadn’t been to Paris since the summer after her sophomore year in college. Now she knew that she hadn’t been alone—her mother had traveled along with her that summer. She’d written down the incantation to keep her safe and purchased two small candles, which were now stored in her bag. While she hated to admit it, she was nervous—and a little frightened—knowing she might be in danger. In the end, Audrey had toyed with joining them, and Lara had hoped her mother could make the trip, but she had an expectant mare and decided to stay behind. The trip would be short—only forty-eight hours. They’d see Edward Binghampton Barrow soon after landing and give the scholar a day to decide whether it was a real Giroux or not.

As they boarded, Lara took the suitcase from Gaston’s hand, pushing her carry-on toward him to take instead. It was her painting, her family’s potentially valuable painting. Gaston made a move to take the handle from her and she shot him a look. “I’ve got it.”

They landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport the following morning. Knowing their hotel rooms wouldn’t be available, they took a taxi directly to the Sorbonne’s Institut National d’Histoire de l’Art on Rue Vivienne on the Right Bank, Second Arrondissement.

It was strange traveling with Gaston, a man she barely knew. He drank a steady stream of espressos and was prone to pacing while on his phone, securing art with the intensity of a stock trader.

As she rode through Paris, Kerrigan Falls felt so far away, and her thoughts turned to Althacazur. He had told her that she wouldn’t need to contact him—he’d find her. So far in her life, he’d been able to do just that. Lara realized how much she’d needed this diversion. Althacazur had compared Todd to his lost love, Juno, and described them as mere illusions. While he indicated that he held the answers she was looking for, in her heart Lara felt the answer had been inside her for nine months now. She’d just needed to be somewhere else for a little context to be able to admit that Todd wasn’t coming back, because he couldn’t.

She was deep in thought when the taxi slowed in front of a tall cement building and Gaston reached into his wallet and paid the driver.