“So I’ll end up in Le Cirque Secret one way or another,” said Lara to the voice, reassured that she wasn’t alone. Having someone, even a disembodied voice in your head, sharing this secret made it bearable. “Can’t you tell me what Esmé looks like?”

I can only describe her to you.

“The painting,” said Lara. “You can’t share your memories with me?”

No. Sadly, I cannot. But if I see her, I will tell you.

“So we just wait for her?” asked Lara. Althacazur had given them no plan; they were just blended for battle.

She’ll find us, Lara. Be patient, plus enjoy the time you have here.

The next morning, the sound of her bedroom shutters snapping open woke Lara from a sound sleep. Lifting her head, she saw the morning sun filtering in on her. “Jesus,” she groaned. Somewhere in the distance she heard a rooster crow and the sound of a tractor firing up. “What the hell?”

Audrey stood there, arms folded. “We’re making jam today. The berries are in.”

Lara covered her head with her pillow. “I’m not making jam today, Mother. I’m sleeping, then Caren is coming over.”

Her mother lifted the pillow, so the sun seeped into Lara’s eyes. “The huckleberries have come in this past weekend. I need help before it gets too hot.” Audrey’s hands clapped, and as if on cue, Lara felt a firm thump on her stomach as her Welsh terrier, Hugo, peered down at her and sniffed along her ear. Hugo shared a name with the catcher from Cecile’s diary. This furry Hugo was also a great catcher… of tennis balls. While berry picking was, indeed, one of his favorite activities, apple picking in the fall delighted him even more. He mistook the apples for balls and could be found slobbering over the wooden baskets, heaping with fresh apples, one or two marred by tooth marks. Most of the top layer of apples with Hugo bites in them had to be discarded when baking pies.

“Seriously, Hugo? Why do you always take her side? It’s always the tiny ones who are trouble.” The terrier cocked his head and dug at her covers. “Where are the rest of them?”

“Penny and Oddjob don’t care for berry picking, as you know. Hugo is going, though,” added her mother, like there was ever any question about Hugo’s participation. For dogs, Oddjob and Moneypenny didn’t like to do much of anything except guard her. They hadn’t left Lara’s side since she’d gotten back from Paris, and she was surprised to find they weren’t on the bed.

She put her feet on the floor and looked up to see her mother standing in the doorway, arms still folded. She snapped the duvet back and wiggled out of the tangled covers. “Are you frozen in that position, Mother?”