Finn sighs. His curls blow gently across his forehead. “If the key is real, I can’t imagine they’ll leave it unguarded during such a public event.”

“Will they hurt you?” I ask.

“Yes.” His response is simple and immediate.

I laugh, but there’s no joke here. “You’re trying to protect me?”

He furrows his brows. “That’s what you don’t understand, Frances. I’m always trying to protect you.”

I wake with tears running down my face in rivulets like raindrops, but I don’t remember beginning to cry.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The last time I went to a gala in a fancy dress, the night began with a murder and throwing the commissioner’s body in the river, and ended with me sobbing at Maxine’s bedside accusing her of killing my brother.

She’s laughing now as she passes me a ruby-encrusted headband. “Don’t hurl this one at me, I beg you.”

“I thought you’d said all was forgiven,” I joke, but the guilt that rests inside me blinks awake at her jab. There’s a sick feeling in my stomach tonight, heavier than just nerves.

“Ahh, but not forgotten.”

I laugh along with her, but still feel a little like crying.

She hands Lena a pair of emerald earrings next. “Perfect against your hair. Don’t tell Maman I stole them off her vanity.”

It would be easy to pretend we were getting ready for a party if not for the small, sheathed blades Maxine and Lena have pressed to their thighs under their skirts.

They offered me one as well, but the idea of stabbing someone sent me reeling so horribly I had to excuse myself and put my head between my legs to get my breathing back to normal. In the end, Maxine accepted my simple “no, thank you” without further debate.

Maxine’s mother and stepfather were easily convinced to secure us tickets to tonight’s gala after Mrs. Grenoble paid a call. “I should have thought of it earlier,” Maxine’s mother replied. “As long as you have escorts,” her stepfather replied.

“Very acceptable ones,” Maxine replied with a self-satisfied nod. Oliver and Pascal will be here to fetch us soon. Finn, I assume, is somewhere down the hall getting dressed by Maxine’s stepfather’s valet.

I haven’t seen Finn in nearly twenty-four hours, except in my dreams. We’ve told him to make himself scarce, but what does that matter when he’s always there in my head. He’s like a shadow I can’t shake, he flits just out of vision, always behind me, always watching. I used to relish the weight of his eyes on me, but now I wish I could free myself from them.

Greta startles us with a knock at the door. “They’re here, girls. You look lovely.”