Her throat went tight. Even though she knew it was different this time, still her throat went tight. And the fingers that Drake had dropped as he vaulted forward curled toward her palms.

Numbers clamored for release. Prayers that had remained too long unprayed. Supplications. Thirteen, twenty-six, thirty-nine. Praises. Three, nine, twenty-seven, eighty-one. Pleas for forgiveness. Eighteen. Eighteen. Eighteen.

Red had squeezed through the opening and helped the blue-clad legs find purchase on the floor. Drake swung the door wide.

It must have been the guard they’d posted. He was clearly a navy man, and even from here Margot could see the bloodied knot on his head. His hands were bound behind him, his ankles tied tight, and a balled-up rag had been tied into his mouth, the poor chap.

Red and Drake soon had the gag removed, the ropes cut. Margot spun for the kitchen, Maman’s voice in her head. Get the poor lad some water, Margot. Can you not see that he will be parched?

Maman had always been wise. The man was managing little more than a few hoarse croaks until she handed him the water, which he guzzled greedily. Then he sank onto the end of Drake’s bed with an audible “Thanks.”

“Tell me what happened, seaman. Where’s my sister?”

The lad shook his head. “I was escorting her home from the OB, Lieutenant, as you’d told me to do. We’d just gotten to the door, and your sister was fishing her keys out of her handbag—she was upset and having a time of it, so I was trying to help. Then, the next thing I know, I woke up here, and it was afternoon already.”

Red spat out his opinion on the matter, shoved agitated fingers through his hair, and spun toward the window. “Where is she? Where? Do you think—is he going to hurt her?”

“I don’t know.” Drake, too, spun. Margot, still on the threshold because it felt too odd to go into his room, watched his eyes flit from left to right, up and down, every which way. Searching for answers. Or, lacking those, for questions. Then the color drained from his cheeks as he stared at something she couldn’t see from where she stood. “Margot. Come here, please.”

Her feet obeyed before her mind even commanded them to do so, and that one step was all it took to remove the wall from her view and replace it with the small desk. On top of which sat a familiar game board, black and white stones arranged just so and a white slip of paper anchored under the corner.