I realize it’s probably just the sleep deprivation, but it is nice to feel light after a night that’s been so heavy.

We walk back to the DuPres’ flat as if we’re floating on air. It would be easy to mistake us for a group of friends returning home after a night that went too long. At one point a baker unlocking his shop for the day is so charmed by us, he passes Maxine a paper bag of day-old pains au chocolat.

The sun rises over the Seine a soft, butter yellow, and the first morning summer rays feel like an embrace.

Oliver slings an arm heavy around my shoulder, and my joints feel loose with relief. I let myself imagine, for the first time since I arrived in France, that things may truly turn out all right.

We have the key to close the veil. Soon this nightmare will be finished and I can return to my perfectly pleasant holiday, wandering Paris hand in hand with the boy I love most.

Lena fears the key may be too simple. I don’t think I deserve much from the universe, but perhaps it has decided to gift me this, finally, an easy solution.

Hand in hand with Oliver, I tilt my head up to the sky and let the sunrise warm the tired spot between my eyebrows.

It’s good. This is good.

But then—

It isn’t.

An ear-shattering pop bursts the precious bubble of joy. At first, I think it’s a machine backfiring, but then I hear the screaming, see the blood.

Finn is still upright, but he’s stumbling, hunched so far over his fingertips are nearly dragging on the ground.

Just when I think he’s about to fall, Oliver scoops under his arms and pulls him upright. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. The entire left side of Finn’s body is covered in blood. It’s dripping all over Oliver, marring his white tuxedo shirt with a rapidly spreading stain. Blood drips from between Finn’s fingertips where his arms lie limp at his side.

“Run,” he gasps. “Run.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

And we do. Oliver hauls Finn along with him, and we sprint, tripping over our own feet, going as fast as our legs will carry us until our lungs are screaming for air.

From behind us I hear the sickening pop again as whoever is chasing us shoots once more.

I whirl my head around to look behind me, my carefully pinned chignon from last night unraveling with every step. It is not easy to run in a heavy silk gown and heels, but we manage somehow.

We turn the corner and burst onto the next quiet street like an explosion. Maxine’s building is in view now. We’re so close.