She was undecided whether she was going to tell them about the invitation but was leaning toward not. From a purely academic standpoint, it made sense to show them, so they could lay their lands on an authentic ticket from Le Cirque Secret. Yet if she told Gaston and Barrow, they’d never let her show up tonight. She couldn’t risk them trying to stop her. This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Looking at them both, she knew if they had tickets in their pockets, they would go.

“I cannot believe another Giroux painting has been hanging in the office of Le Cirque de Fragonard for years?” Barrow’s hands were on his face in disbelief, his eyes wild. “I need to see it. Today if possible.”

“Oh, Teddy, it’s so beautiful. Even more beautiful than my painting.” Lara cut a piece of her duck confit as Barrow skimmed the notebook. “It’s in the owner’s private collection. And I do mean private; there is some creepy stuff in there.”

“I’ll call someone at the institute to see if I can get Fragonard to let us see it.” Barrow was distracted, furiously scanning through his phone contacts. After leaving two voicemails, he settled back into his seat and focused on the journal, smoothing the pages. “The writing is so faded. We should be wearing gloves.”

“I’ve only managed to translate the second journal.” She met his eyes. “It tells the story of two of the paintings—Cecile’s and Sylvie’s. I’m convinced that my grandmother—the woman who helped raise me—was not Cecile, but Sylvie. I think the answer is the third journal.” She handed the second journal to him. While it might have been faster for him to read the third, she kept it, preferring to be its first reader. After all, this was her family, her legacy. She needed to be the one to read Cecile’s words. While Barrow was fixed on Giroux, she was getting drawn into Cecile’s world. “Any word about the painting?”